


Words that harm (words that heal)

by chaos



Series: Can You Feel My Heart [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Avengers, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Because man, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, I just borrowed the characters, Just not yet, L&O:SVU - Freeform, M/M, No actuall BtVS, Numb3rs - Freeform, Other, Red Room, Soul Markings, Soul words, Soulmates AU, both mentioned - Freeform, non graphic child abuse, non graphic rape, non graphic torture, same with DA and OG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos/pseuds/chaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SoulmateAU- Having someones words on your skin doesn't automatically mean happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ch 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [write love on my skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835587) by [amusewithaview](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview). 



Even as a baby Daria had a line of words in Cyrillic winding around her wrist. It took her till she was a eight to realise the significance and not long after that that the words weren't necessarily a good thing. The words, when she asked her mama to read them fr her, told her one thing. 

You belong to me now. 

The words themselves confused her- after all, people coudn't own other people. Why would she belong to someone?

The words never seemed romantic to her, in fact, when she looked at them they made her feel an uncomfortable twisting in her stomach. She hated that feeling and decided young to keep her mark covered from view.

She was fourteen when she decided she didn't need a soul mate. Her parents were fighting all the time, not even the presence of their own matching words- the first words they had ever said to each other- enough to temper the arguments. 

Even with her earphones snug in her ears she could hear their fights- about how she was failing school, how she refused to do the work, how she wasn't pretty enough, skinny enough or good enough to be shown off to the others in their peer group. 

Daria scowled and flipped open a notebook, filled with equations and computer code. It wasn't that she couldn't do the work- she was bored. Math was simple algebra, and, everything else may be interesting but once she read the textbooks there wasn't really anything else to do. She sighed and busied herself with the numbers and code wishing she could be anywhere but here. She didn't need, or want, anyone- so why did she have to carry that possessive mark on her wrist. 

A banging on her door made her startle, and she slammed her notebook shut and opened her door. "What?" she bit out, tugging the cloth sweat band over the writing again. 

Her mother looked at her before shaking her head. "Come eat Dasha" her words were soft, face worn and eyes tired. "Your father has gone back to work. Just- can't you do better in class? I know you can do better then you are."

"It's boring mom." Daria answered softly, looking at the floor. "I read the textbooks but in class it gets boring and I don't- it's just so boring." she answered lamely. 

Daria's mom sighed. "You still need to do the work and not focus on the genius in your notebooks. Being that good- it makes you stand out and standing out never ends well."

Daria wrinkled her nose. "I can try?" she offered before adding "There are plenty of kids who are accelerated up grades mama. If could too then maybe I wouldn't be so bored."

"If you promise not to get into trouble." Her mama answered "and can find me information on programns that are not government sponsered then I will think about it."

"I promise I will try." Daria gave a wide grin, her hair a mess of wild curls. 

"That's all I ask vorobey." Daria's mom replied. 

"Why do you call me Sparrow mama?" Daria asked her softly, even as they settled into the dinner table for simple soup and toasted sandwiches. 

"I'm surprised little one you haven't asked before." Daria's mom admitted. "I call you sparrow because when you were born you were all big blue eyes and this puff of hair." she smiled in rememberance "And you gave the softest little peep of a cry."

Daria gave a soft laugh at that before looking at her covered wrist. "Mama- why do you stay? You and dad fight all the time."

"Oh malyutka (little one)." Daria's mom sighed softly. "Your dad and I are not marked but we still love each other dearly. Even if we had each others words it wouldn't mean we won't argue." She nudged lunch towards Daria who started to eat hungrily. 

"Do you think I can make a point to never meet..." Daria looked at her wrist. "I don't think he's a good person."

Stasya stilled and looked at her daughter a moment. "What makes you say that Dasha?" She asked her softly. 

"Do you ever just get a feeling?" Daria asked softly. "When I think at whose words I have all I feel is possession and anger and hate. It scares me."

Stasya gave a small nod before saying softly "Then if he finds you, you run. If there is nothing good in him malyutka you put him down like I told you and run."

"And add him to the wall of faces to run from once we know." Daria gave a nod, referring to the photos her mama had of dangerous people and their names. 

"Yes, little one." Stasya pulled her daughter into a hug. "And we will pray to the god of little things that your mark will fade without you ever meeting."

"Like yours did." Daria whispered softly, knowing that it was rare to have more then one match but that sometimes when one faded another could form. 

Stasya blinked back tears. "Yes little one. Like mine did."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daria meets a professor (not that one) and her teacher is a dick

School the next day was just as boring as every other. Well, as boring as any other day until third period when her math class was sent in to sit in on the seniors who were getting an introduction to the CalSci math department. After a lecture from the senior classes teacher since their own was off sick, they settled in. 

For once, Daria wasn't bored. At the start of the class, the curly haired professor wrote up a complex equation which left her salivating. The challenge to the class was to solve it. 

Daria mostly tuned out the lecture- well, she listened because it was interesting, but she was focused on the equation, her pen dancing across the page. Once she fixed where an integer had been switched, the equation made more sense, if beyond anything they had covered in class. It made her actually have to think and was fun. She blinked and looked up as people started discussing the equation and raised her hand. 

Tucked to the back of the group with the other younger students, there was no way that she was going to be seen. Instead, while a debate took place, she slipped out of her chair, notebook in her satchel again, and made her way to the front. Still not successful in getting attention, Daria frowned before picking up a red whiteboard marker and starting to fix the errors in copying as well as complete the equation. 

Finishing up she blinked before turning to see everyone's eyes on her. She ducked her head down, fiddling with the edges of her braid. "The math was wrong."

"I know." The professor guy looked amused and that made Daria scowl. 

"It wasn't very nice." She told him, head tilting up to glare at him. "I mean, the equation itself would have been a challenge. The integer screw up was mean."

"Miss Lewenstein, I told you and the rest of your class of miscreants to stay sitting and not to interrupt. It's not like you are able to think about college."

"Since she just manage to solve something that took me close to 20 hours staring at to find the errors the first time in an hour, I think she is plenty intelligent enough." The professor bit back at the teacher. 

Daria looked at him wide eyed. "It's not my fault I get bored." She blurted. "And it's not my fault they don't understand what I write."

"What do you write?" Professor Epps asked. 

Daria gave a grin and fished out her notebook. "Depends on the day." she rather tentatively held onto it before handing it over. "I protect this better then my diary." She informed him. "I'm a teenage girl. We protect our diaries fiercely."

Professor Epps hmm'd slightly as he started clicking through the blocks of coding interspersed with equations. "I hope you never actually put these codes into play." 

Daria blushed. "I left important bits out." She admitted. "Because those could be really bad. It's all patterns and language though." she waved her hand. "Codes are awesome. So is cryptography." She flicked forwards towards a rather delicate piece of math and code interspersed with Cyrillic. "I am trying to convince my parents to let me submit a sample of that to the national cypher writing competition." She admitted. 

"What gave you the idea to use Cyrillic?" Epps asked her, wide eyed as he kept flicking through the notebook.

"It's the one non English, non mathematical language I know." Daria admitted with a wry smile. "And it's not like its predictable on how it's used when I used it in the code."

"Why doesn't your mom want you to submit it?" The professor asked, neither realising till then that the rest of the class had left. 

Daria chewed her lip before answering softly "Mom- mom left Russia behind. There were." She looked away. "There were program's in Russia that would find the brightest, the most able and convince their families that they would be better off continuing their studies with the government for mother Russia." Her hands curled around her notebook and she took it from Professor Epps. 

"She is worried it will happen here." Professor Epps commented softly. 

Daria nodded. "Mom knows I'm smart. She showed me." Daria went quiet again. 

"She showed you the math." Daria looked up and nodded. 

"She says that my mind makes hers seem slow." Daria admitted. Her eyes danced a little as she remembered "I was nine when mama let me use my first computer code."

"What did you do?" Epps asked her. 

Daria giggled more. "You know them furby pets?" She asked, getting a nod. "I decided the computer needed to be kind of like one crossed with a tamagotchi. I never got it to learn- the code was too simplistic." She half frowned. "Wonder if I could do that now?" She considered before shaking her head. "Anyway- unless the tamagotchi furby computer was happy and played with it wouldn't let you do anything."

"Oh no." Professor Epps started to laugh. 

"Oh yes." Daria giggled. "After three days mama made me take him off. I still have his code around- I keep tweaking as things update."

"I have a serious question Ms. Lewenstein." Professor Epps started. 

Daria wrinkled her nose. "Call me Daria."

"Okay Daria. I have a question." He looked at her seriously. "Do you think you could test out of all your subjects or just the math based ones?"

Daria considered a moment. "If I actually tried- sure." She answered him. "I've read the work and understand it till senior year. Why's that?"

The professor considered her. "The why is because if you stay here you are going to be bored to the point of self destruction. If I can get it organised we could test you and get you doing college based courses."

Daria considered a moment before nodding. "Being bored is frustrating." She declared. 

"Awesome." He looked at her. "Will your mom be okay with it?"

Daria chewed her lip before shrugging "I don't think she will disagree too much. Well, I hope not." 

"Would it help for me to come talk to her?" The professor asked. 

Daria considered before giving a slow nod. "That might be easier. She still sees me as her baby- and by talking to you she can ask all the hard questions."

"How about I call tonight? Do you think she would prefer me phone or come in person?"he asked her. 

Daria gave a smile "How about call and then come by when she is fine with it. Saves any unpleasantness, you know?"

"That sounds sort of ominous." The professor commented with a smile. 

"Bwahahahahaha" Daria gave an evil laugh before looking at the clock. "Crap." she muttered. "Better eat." she pointed at the clock "before my next class."

"Go kid." The professor smiled, "I will talk to you later."

Daria ran, the only thought other then food was that as excited as she was that her mom was going to yell. 

Her mom did yell, but it was more at her dad then her. It didn't stop her from finishing her secondary schooling by the end of the year so she could start at CalSci on math heavy classes as the school year started.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl meet......crazy russian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, I am likely to forget to post if I don't post them up now. 
> 
> And fyi, this whole fic series is titled as 'Darcy's crazy Russians'. Just yeah.
> 
> A certain crazy russian is creepy ok?

Four years pass rather quickly when your mind was fully engaged. For Daria it was no different. She loved the more advanced study and being away from the high tension that filled her family home. She didn't live on campus until her final year, but it was relaxing to step way from the nest- even when she headed back most weekends. 

Daria hummed softly as she slipped into Professor Epps- Charlie's class room. Settling her bag down she stepped up to the chalk board, chewing her lip before grinning and adding a line of equation to it. The board was a game that they had- a think on the fly follow the leader kind of game that played with advanced mathematics. Even though she had started doing some political science work, math was still her first love. Dusting her hands off on her well worn jeans she slung her satchel over her shoulder. She offered a wave as she left, darting down the hallway. 

"See you Monday Daria." Charlie called, shaking his head. "Give your mom my best."

"Sure I will Charlie. I'll even remember to bring you some cookies." Daria answered with a grin. 

She didn't know that she wouldn't come back on Monday. 

Daria opened her door, calling out as she did before freezing as she moved into the lounge room, her eyes on the slimy looking guy sitting on the couch, two men who screamed body guard shifting so they were behind her. 

"Ah, this must be little Daria." The slimy man stood, offering a hand. 

"Yeah." Daria answered, edging closer so she could look at her parents. "Mama- what's for dinner?" she asked. 

She ignored her father as he gave her a sharp look. 

"Pancakes for dinner." Stasya answered, eyes meeting Daria's. 

Daria swallowed hard. Breakfast foods meant run. She looked at the slime ball before pasting a smile on "I have a lot of homework to do." She moved towards the stairs. "Just going to work on it now."

"Aw." The slimy guy gave a smirk. "And I came all this way to bring my present. Well he was for your dear mother but he thinks you are much more interesting."

Daria turned to bolt towards the kitchen, her hand being grabbed by a tight hand which circled her wrist. She kicked at the rough looking man, finding herself pulled against him. She could hear her parents yelling, her mothers voice shrill and panicked and then she heard him. 

 

"Vy seychas prinadlezhit mne." (You belong to me now.) was growled into her ear, his breath hot against her neck.

Daria trembled, shaking her head in denial. "Fuck you." She swore at him, voice shaking. "I belong to no one."

"I have never been happier that your mother broke our bond." the man raised his head "I wonder, Stasya if she fight as long as you."

Daria closed her eyes as his hands ran down her body to creep under the hem of her shirt. Her hands moved to grab at his, trying to pull it away from her, anything to stop that deceptively light and teasing touch.

"Please, Ivan." Daria could feel her eyes prickle and tears fall as her mama begged. "Don't hurt her because of what I did."

"Don't worry Anastasia, I will only hurt her because I want her to hurt." Ivan crooned softly, voice thick with his russian accent even as he wrapped his hand in Daria's hair and pulled hard, pressing his face against her arched neck "We both know how much I love to make my little loves hurt." He pressed a kiss to Daria's throat before smirking. "I think you should make your boys earn their keep Hammer."

"Well there really is nothing for it." Hammer sighed. "I can't be known for kidnapping."

Daria shook hed head, hearing the words but not taking in their context, not until Ivan pushed her to her knees on the floor of the large car and two gunshots echoed. She flinched hard, giving a low sob.

Hammer climbed into the back of the limo with his bodyguards. "I hope your piece of ass is worth it Vanko."

Vanko tipped Daria's face towards himself and traced the tear tracks. "Is worth it." He declared, rolling his sleeve up to show the soul tattoo on his arm proudly declaring 'Fuck you" on his arm.

"How sweet." Hammer sounded mocking. "I thought you were after the mother"

Vanko looked down at the terrified girl at his feet. "Daughter is mine." He grabbed the girls wrist, shoving the bracelets down and tracing the lettering. 

"Right. Don't care." Hammer rolled his eyes. "When we get back to New York you get your twenty four hours then you work." 

"I will do work." He stroked Daria's tear streaked face. "After I know mate better."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time...is not on our side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natalie Rushman is introduced. So is Uncle Phil.

Natalie Rushman, or rather Natasha Romanoff stopped in front of the television, eyes flickering over the faces the victims of a home invasion, taking in the words that their eighteen year old daughter was missing. Pulling out her phone she dialed by memory. 

"Uncle Phil." Her voice was quiet as the handler picked up. 

"Natalie, what's wrong?" Phil asked, answering the phone and knowing that in Stark's domain any calls out were risky. 

"I caught the news." Natasha said softly. "My friend from school- Anastasia- Stasya- do you remember me telling you about her?"

"I remember." Phil sat up straight, hands going to his tablet to access S.H.I.E.L.D files from when the Russian had joined them. "She left before you." he stated.

"Yes." Natasha, no, Natalie answered. "Her and her husband moved to California. They were murdered and their daughter missing."

"Natasha- we can't go chasing civilian crimes." Phil spoke softly. 

Natalie was quiet "Isn't there someone close enough? I have a bad feeling." She told him, even as she left the building. "Her daughter was studying at CalSci. Doctorate degree. She is barely eighteen."

"Could she have been recruited?" Coulson asked, bringing up files from where we be could find and swearing "She was following in her mothers footsteps. Code breaking, mathematical theory, programming." he exhaled. "and political science." He sounded puzzled but intrigued. "She's been working with one of our contractors." He gave a small hmm of interest as he looked into who- and what she was doing.

"You want to find her." Natasha gave a wry smile. " Will she be one of your kids too?"

"If we can find her." Phil answered. "You know Stark is going to have questions."

"A friend from school was murdered in her home and her daughter missing. I'm uncertain what exactly he could be pissed at me for." She hung up, forcing herself to get teary eyed before walking back in, apologising when she caught up to Ms. Potts. 

"Sorry I'm late Ms. Potts." Natalie put a weak smile on her face. "I was" her voice shook. "The news. Stasya and I were school friends."

"Are you alright to continue? Dealing with Mr Stark can be trying on the best of days." the strawberry blond woman touched her arm consolingly. 

Natalie shook her head. "It's better I stay here and keep working. My uncle is looking into things for me. If I wasn't here I would only dwell too much on everything."

"Just let me know if it gets to be too much." Pepper responded before taking the darker red head down to meet Tony Stark.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild archer appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing graphic, just....Clint.

Clint Barton decided that sometimes picking up the phone for his handler was not a good idea. Well, most the time it meant that there was something interesting going on but wandering around the house of the most boring family on earth? Even the math in the girls bedroom wasn't interesting. It could have been a reason on why she was taken though- especially since she had been working with Charlie.

Since he couldn't actually understand the math and coding however, it wasn't interesting enough to actually get excited about. He was all about the physical math and not so much the theoretical.

Well it wasn't until the FBI turned up. 

"I can explain." The sniper raised his hands and stayed very very still as the agent in charge motioned him down to be handcuffed. 

"Most people wandering around a crime scene are either investigating it or returning to the scene of the crime." The dark haired agent informed him. 

"I don't suppose you would believe me if I said I was actually investigating?" Clint offered. 

"Holy shit." This was a woman's voice and the agent in charge barely looked up. "Epps, we need to get Charlie here."

"Yeah, crap. You are Charlie Epps' big brother." Clint grimaced. "They are going to give me so much shit over this."

"Who is they?" Epps asked.

"Everyone. Don't bother ringing Charlie, he should be here any time." Clint commented. 

"Don, why do you have Clint handcuffed?" Came the mild voice of the professor in question. 

"Kinky sex games Charlie." Clint responded, standing up, the cuffs undone. He stepped towards Charlie, eyes sad and teasing manner gone "Are you okay to do this?"

Charlie looked anywhere but at the bloodstains on the carpet. "Daria is what's at stake if we fail." He looked at the archer. "I can't." He exhaled "Lets find out who took her and then where." He started moving downstairs. 

"I haven't gone down there yet." Clint offered. 

Charlie gave a half smile. "You will love it Clint." He informed him, taking him to the basement- and the series of targets within. The mathematician tapped a perfect score human shaped target. "I didn't like that Dar could shoot- but it is reassuring to know that she wasn't going to miss what she aimed at." 

"What was it shot with?" Clint asked, looking at the target. 

"A gun Barton. I don't know which." Charlie bit out. 

"Rifle." Clint corrected, watching as Charlie moved around the room like he had been here many times before. 

Charlie went to a panel, tapping a long string of numbers into it. He gave a disappointed sound as the small panic room was empty. It didn't stop him going in and retrieving something. 

"Here." Charlie tossed Clint a memory card. "Stasya- she said if anything ever happened to give that to your-" he glanced at his brother who had followed him down "boss. She said that even someone with as much red as her needs a shield and that it has information a widow could use."

Clint swore softly before tucking the memory card into a pocket. "I will get it to where it needs to go."

 

"I know." Charlie looked at the security set up, face tight. "I can't watch this. I can't hear them- see what happened."

"You did good Charlie." Clint touched his arm. "How about you get the girl- Daria's coding sorted. You know it can't stay here."

"Too much of a security risk." Charlie gave a nod. "I'm guessing you need it too?"

"Yeah." Clint answered, moving into the room. "You coming in big brother Epps?"

"It's Don." The elder Epps told him. 

"Well Don- do you want in here while I watch what happens?" Clint asked. 

"I'm surprised you haven't taken over the whole investigation since I am certain you are from one of those secret shady governent agencies who love doing that shit." Don commented. 

Clint shook his head. "I'm from a kind of secret orgainisation, yes, but I wouldn't" he exhaled "My specialties are in information retrieval and eliminations." he considered "And demolitions. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your brother". 

"....you should probably work on your delivery." Don told him. "because knowing you spy, kill and blow shit up isn't reassuring."

Clint shrugged "At least I'm on the right side now." He admitted even as he went to the terminal, looking back till he could see the woman alone moving around the house. He sat up, tense, as the husband came home, and with him was Justin Hammer, two muscle and Ivan Vanko. He watched as Vanko terrorized the couple before moving out of the lounges camera view. He watched the girl come in, her hesitance and her break for freedom and being grabbed. He missed the words spoken the first time, but caught them on the second. 

"Fuck." Barton swore before calling in. "Vanko has her." he ran hands through his hair as he watched the rest of the file. "I think- fuck- Coulson. When Vanko was taken in they documented tattoos and marks right?" He asked. 

"Yes, they did." Phil frowned as he pulled the file up. "What am I looking for Clint?"

"The words fuck you." Clint replied. 

Phil was silent a moment. "Hell." He growled. "This is not good."

"You aren't telling me anything I don't know. Looks like he had a bond with the mother." Clint said softly, rewinding the file to re watch from the beginning, frowning as he read the Russians lips. 

"At least we know a who. Eventually he is going to pop up." Phil rubbed his face, exhausted. 

"At what cost?" Clint asked. "If he wanted her for her mind it would be one thing. Knowing he has her words- he's going to hurt her. It's- I have never seen anyone reject the marks. Not like that. He's had her over eighteen hours now, Uncle Phil." The endearment slipped out as Clint worked through what the kid would be going through. "Men like him are not gentle- if she fights..." The words faded out, unspoken. 

"Soul marks aren't always about love or friendship. Sometimes it's about what changes you- people who are a catalyst." Phil reminded him. "Unfortunately not everyone wants that chance."

"I just hope she survives this boss." Clint barely whispered the words before he hang up. His face was set as he looked around, seemingly at random, hands touching and seeking. If Stasya was anything like Tasha, she would have more information hidden. He stilled at the click as he triggered a mechanism and exhaled slowly, letting the piece of bookcase come free. He reached into the small hand sized hole, retrieving the thick notebook as well as a cd with Daria's name scrawled across it. He tucked it into his vest before heading upstairs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daria is not happy with this situation (understatement). Possibly/likely triggering for someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realized in writing this fic that I can't stomach writing rape. That is what this is- or rather is the aftermath of. Also I didn't have my beta read through this one so, uh, if you pick anything up (aside from Australian to US spelling clashes, please tell me?

Daria curled up into a tight ball, body marked where he had beaten her with his belt, drawing blood before he, before he, her mind stuttered to a stop, not wanting to form the words, not wanting to acknowledge the rape. 

Her mind raced as she watched him sleep. She couldn't tell how long she had been with him, other then that she was tired and thirsty and sore. At least if he was sleeping he wasn't hurting her. 

Daria closed her eyes tight as she shook, shifting slightly to lean against the side of the cage she was in. It was little more then a dog crate for a larger breed, complete with rubber pad in the bottom. He had shoved her in it and padlocked the door in preparation for travel. She guessed she should feel proud that he was worried that she would try to run, but she knew the truth- in as much pain as she was in she would be hard pressed to run. 

She pressed against the back of the cage as he woke and moved around, shoving a bottle of water and a couple of meal replacement bars into the food slot of the cage. 

"Don't eat all now. You will need for trip, yes." Vanko informed her, eyeing her before grunting. "Vanko will be back tomorrow, next day. Will meet you at port on ship." He told her. "You not run or make noise or I punish understand?"

Daria swallowed hard before nodding "I'll behave." she told him, not looking at his face. 

"Good." Vanko nodded before leaving to work, beckoning the two body guards who had killed her parents in. 

Even though she kept her eyes on the bodyguards coming towards her, she still heard Vanko respond to something Hammer said. "Very good. Nice."

Daria gave a sob that she muffled with her own hand. The two bodyguards- her parents murderers, lifted the crate and settled it into a trolly. Daria flinched as they started to move, and started panicking as they slid the wire crate into a slightly larger wooden one. 

"Crap, kid stop." one of the body guards stared at her through the front. "Look- its not for too long. Here." He slid in a pen light. "I didn't sign up for this shit."

"Why did you kill them." Daria whispered, voice cracking as she took the tiny torch. 

"I refused but." The guy looked scared "Said it was me or them. Your mother-"

"She told you to pull the trigger." Daria rested her head on her knees, already knowing that she would have said that. "It doesn't make it right."

The man looked around. "Look- the police are going to get an anonymous call later tellin them where you are. I can't do it any sooner."

"I can wait." Daria looked at him. "Don't- you need to get away from jobs like this."

"I'd rather beg then keep doing it." the bodyguard replied. "It's not what I signed up for." He added, even as he moved back sliding the panel into place. 

It was dark, and smelling of pine, water and fuel. Daria stayed as still as possible, not that there was room to move as she was sent out as shipping. She closed her eyes, hoping like hell that she could pass the time sleeping. 

Sleep came in brief snatches, woken as she was by the sounds of a busy port, and of the feeling of phantom touches on her body. She reached for the bottle of water, sipping it slowly before opening a protein bar in the dark. She tried to eat slow but she was so hungry, gulping the cardboard tasting bar down. 

She tried to sleep more, the box heating up in what she could only guess was the change from night to day. The tight was of the box made her heart pound and the inability to stretch out meant by now her legs were cramping. 

She tried to stay hopeful, but it was hard. 

She could only go by the sounds around her as she kept fitfully dozing through the day, on the passing of the hours. Daria had never considered being claustrophobic until now, but she kind of wondered offhand if she was going to have a problem. She wiggles her way down to curl on the rubber mat on the cage floor, fingers tapping what would seem like random patterns but were actually keyboard strokes. She opened her eyes again, this time picturing her computer system, and let herself sink into the beauty of the code and not the reality of her life. 

She jerked as she felt like she was on fire, her breath leaving her in a rush as she gasped through complete agony. Her mark- his mark on her- felt like it was blistering and burning. Her whole body jerked and she felt the sensation that she could only describe as /him/ torn out of her soul from where it had attempted to graft itself. She couldn't focus on the code, all she had to keep her company was the pain, the pain which started from the words on her wrist. 

Daria gouged at the marks blindly, like a fox biting at the trap on its leg. She could hear screaming and didn't realize it was her own voice, didn't realize till she was dragged from the crate by police before being sedated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe and meeting everyone. More aftermath of trauma and Daria becomes Darcy.

It seemed cliche, but it was the beeping of the heart monitor that woke her- or rather, the shrill sound of someone else's monitor reacting to whatever and letting out that shrill shriek. Daria opened her eyes, her heart just about leaping out of her throat before she tried-sitting up, frantic.

"It's alright, you are safe." The voice was female, the tone cool, possibly mid-western. She looked at the woman before panic hit her harder.

Flashes of photos. Memories. Training. Red hair. Deadly. Red Room. Mothers voice. Danger, run. Chernaya Vdova.

Daria moved, pulling the needle from her arm as she threw hersef off the bed, adrenaline numbng everything as she pushed herself against the wall and glared at the woman.

" YA ne budu odnim iz slomannykh kukol Krasnoy komnaty." (I will not be one of the Red Room's broken dolls.) Daria's voice shook, but she was prepared to fight, armed just with the pulled needle. Everything was a weapon. She was just a girl. She was a weapon. She was- she shook her head slightly, mind pushing information up on how to attack, even though the memory of how she had learned was just not there.

Natasha's eyes widened slightly before she leaned against the wall, palms flat. "The red room does have a tendency to break its toys." She answered softly. "They aren't who I answer to."

"Then who." Daria's voice was a rasp and she barely looked away to acknowledge the suit who stepped up to the door.

"She works for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division." The suit answered for the Widow, and Darcy quivered slightly, half remembering the name.

"You were the SSR." Daria blinked and realized she was down on one knee, fighting to stay upright.

"Daria- can I or Natasha come closer?" The suit asked.

Natasha looked up and swore in Russian. "Uncle Phil-these are the SVU detectives that found Dar"

"Don't call me Dar, Natty." Daria glanced at 'Uncle Phil' before offering him a hand. "I d-don't remember wh-what." She let her lip quiver and her eyes widen "Oh god. He- they killed them. Mom and dad." She stepped further into 'Uncle Phil' and pressed her face against his chest. 

"Its ok sweetheart. They just need to ask you a few questions." Phil cupped her head with his hand. "I don't know if there is anything she can actually tell you."

Daria shifted and looked at her wrist. The gasp she gave was very real. "He's dead." Her eyes went to 'Uncle' Phil. "I c-can't. He's really dead?"

Phil looked at her and inclined his head.

"I'm not staying here." She informed him, voice less shaky. She looked at the detectives, all big eyes and quivering lips. "If he's dead- I don't have to remember." She showed the fresh scarred writing that danced across her wrist. "He took me but he's dead now. He can't hurt anyone else."

"Thought you didn't remember." The slightly belligerent words were from the woman detectives partner-married, probably had kids at home. Old enough his kids could be teens, if he had kids. 

Daria ducked her head down, flinching a moment in response to the tone before her chin came up, shifting her shoulder so the gown slid down, the violent bruising and freshly cleaned wounds a very clear reminder that she was a victim. "I don't /want/ to remember." She told him. "He h-hurt me because he could. I might have his words but I was never /his/" she shook at that proclamation. "He's taken everything from me. My home. My family. My innocence." Her mouth twisted "The only thing he didn't take was my life and that was only chance."

The detective pulled away from her and she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm going with my uncle and Natka. If I remember anyone else being there I will be certain to get in touch."

The detective exhaled and gave a nod. "Just- call us, any time, if you need anything. We have victim support, grief counselors on staff- just- please, remember we are here."

Daria gave a small nod. "I'll remember." She offered, watching as he and his partner left the room. She was still shaky as she made her way to the bed and sat on the edge. "So." She looked at 'Uncle' Phil, voice losing the lost little girl ton. "I don't suppose you come with recommendations?"

"I actually do." Phil pulled his cell phone out and dialed a number from memory. "Are you still with Epps?"

"...."

"Yes, she is. She needs reassurance Barton."

"..."

"Nice try. We will see you when you get in."

"...."

"I have someone who needs to talk with you." Phil smiled slightly. 

"......"

"I will Charlie." Phil's voice had a promise in it before he offered Daria the phone.

"Daria." Charlie's voice was bright and loud.

"Hey professor." Darcy's voice shook.

"You had me worried." Charlies voice was soft. "We had to go through your things. I know how much you hate people in your stuff."

"Don't go downstairs." Daria blurted. "Level two is bad."

"We had to go to- there's another level?" Charlie frowned a little, pulling a pen out and writing a note to Barton. "What happened in the second level Daria?"

"I can't tell you. I try but its fuzzy." Daria frowned. "I need to know if I can trust these guys, Charlie." Her voice sounded small to her own ears, and she felt like she was standing on shifting sands, everything crumbling beneath her.

"I trust them." Charlie answered. "Your mom trusted them."

"Mom did?" Daria asked softly.

"Well, she gave them the all clear when I was approached by them and when I bought you in on the project." Charlie admitted. "Your mom- she told me if anything happened to her I had to do and say something. It kind of seems really stupid but, uh, do you mind if I do it? It" Charlie exhaled. "I really need you to put the phone on speaker. Is Romanoff with you?"

"Red headed Russian- goes by Natasha?" Daria asked.

"Thats her." Charlie's grin could be heard over the phone. "So- speaker phone?"

"Alright." Daria pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it. "Speaker?" She asked Phil, even as Natasha shut the door and flicked the privacy lock. "Charlie needs to tell me something my mom told him to. He thinks you guys should hear it too."

Phil nodded, fingers moving to put the phone on speaker mode. "Take it away Charlie."

Charlie exhaled softly before starting to speak, the words fluid and almost lyrical. "Kolpachok bylo sdelano ne v kachestve kryshki. Kolokol byl sdelan ne kak kolokol. Kolpachok dolzhen byt' peredelan. Kolokol dolzhen byt' peredelan" 

Daria went still, face paling before she gave a low keen. "Nyet. No. I can't." Her words broke off into a sob.

"What did I say? What does it mean?" Charlie's voice was frantic over the phone.

"Literal translation is 'The cap was made not as a cap. The bell was made not as a bell. The cap needs to be remade. The bell needs to be remade.'" Natasha moved to Daria even as she spoke, stroking the girls dark hair.

"Daria. Little sister. It's going to be alright." Her voice was pitched low, the words said in a sing song tone.

Daria shook her head. "I'm not- don't call me that." Her eyes were red rimmed as she looked at the pair of agents. "Call me Darcy." She gave a shaky breath. "I didn't- Charlie are you still there?" She asked, voice firming up.

"I'm still here kiddo." Charlies voice was a reassurance all in itself. 

"Okay good. You have to go to the second basement level. Yes there is one, no its not on plans. Don't go in. Send the agent in. You don't need to see whats down there." Darcy was shivering slightly, pupils blown wide as her mind attempted to integrate memories that her mother had attempted to suppress entirely. Her mother loved her, she had to remember that, even as she tried to make sense of the training she had endured in the lower basement level.

"I'm putting Clint on." Charlie told her softly. "Give him the directions?"

"Yeah. Yeah I can do that." Darcy licked her lips and looked up at the to agents in the room with her. "My mother had a Red Room style training area." She looked at Natasha before looking away. "In case of her death the hypnotic suggestion was to be lifted using that key phrase." She swallowed hard and look away. "She has been conditioning me my whole life."

"I heard that." The voice was low and raspy, and was firm. "Can you tell me how to get down?"

"Yeah I can. What are you like with tight spaces?" Darcy asked, getting a snort of laughter from Natasha.

"I can handle them." Clint replied.

"Good. Get in the laundry chute. The side panel has a latch. Release it and wiggle your way down. It's- there isn't anything dangerous down there." Darcy commented. "Just- don't hold it against me."

"Tasha is my sister in all was that matter." Clint reassured her. "No matter what I find down here, you can't be as fucked up as we are kid."

"Yeah, okay. I'm going to give you back to uncle Phil." Darcy answered softly. She handed the cell to Phil, arms wrapping around herself. She startled softly at the arms that went around her before she was pulled gently onto the bed. 

Natasha held her tightly even as Phil stepped out of the room. Darcy chewed her lips till they felt ragged before wrapping herself around the red head. "How can I hate what she made me while - she was still my mom. I loved her. How do I integrate both sides without hating her?" She looked stricken.

"I don't know." Natasha spoke carefully. "My parents sold me when I was very young. As an adult I could recognize that they didn't care for more then the money- In Russia it was common for girl children to be sold to the brothels. All I can remember before the Room was hunger, and crying and dancing." 

"Dad didn't know. He was always at work when mother would take me down to the room. At least I don't think he knew." Darcy slid her hand against Natasha's waist, sighing softly. "I think I was breaking the suggestions." Her voice was a low murmur. "I knew your face. Now though- now I know your name." She swallowed hard. "Why do you think she did it?"

"Perhaps a safeguard." Natasha offered. "If you were trained and she hid the knowledge even from yourself then you could live a normal life but if she were found she could release your mind and at least you could protect yourself."

"You know- she let dad take me to self defense and to the shooting range." Darcy frowned. "I have two lots of memories of learning to fight and learning to shoot."

"It will take time to have both of them settle into your mind." Natasha stroked her hair way from her face.

Darcy relaxed into it before her gaze shot to Phil opening the door. "Can we go home yet Uncle Phil?" She asked.

"To my home, yes." Phil answered, looking at Natasha in silent conversation, both faces set and angry.

"I knew you would hold it against me." Darcy felt the hot prickle in the back of her eyes and fought it down. She was not going to cry over total strangers.

"I'm not angry at you Darcy." Phil touched her head gently.

Darcy looked up at him before giving a slow nod. "Okay." She swallowed. "Can I have something to write on? I need to math." 

"You need to math?" Phil's voice sounded amused,

"There is too much in my head right now. I need to write math, or code." Darcy answered him. "You got anyone you want to give a headache to? Because we can let them try read my code after."

Natasha gave a snort of laughter. "Come on Uncle Phil. It will be funny."

"Yeah Uncle Phil." Darcy offered big blue eyes.

Phil gave a soft chuckle. "Fine." He answered. "Only if you promise to eventually write a cypher for her. Maria might shoot us all otherwise."

Darcy gave a quick half smile before standing again. "Where is home?" She asked him, even as she eyed the medical personnel who bought forms in to sign. She let Phil sign them, staying curled against Natasha.

"We have a place here, another in Colorado." Natasha offered, "Well, quite a few places around. I think Uncle Phil is talking about the one closest to works main hub."

Phil looked up and quirked an eyebrow at them both. "Yes, we are going to that one. Darcy is going to need medical help, therapy and rehab while we work on the last few credits to finish your studies."

"Its not too many." Darcy gave a half shrug. "Just a few science credits." At his incredulous look she blushed. "God." She grimaced "I know. Unfortunately math and science for fun doesn't count as credit when you are doing a second degree." She eyed the bag of pills that Uncle Phil was given. "I'll happily take the antibiotics and the plan b but I am not using the painkillers." She told him flatly.

Natasha gave a soft snort of laughter, even as she got Darcy up and half walking. "How about you wait until the morphine you are currently on wears off?" She offered "Because I have been in similar state as you are- and I kind of know how much you are going to ache."

Darcy looked at her briefly, not seeing pity at least. She shook her head "If I can take the pain I'm not taking the pills." She reiterated, voice firm. "I c-can't make myself that weak." Her voice shook in sudden panic.

Phil tilted his head at her. "I understand. You don't trust us yet."

Darcy shook her head. "I don't know you yet." She told him softly, reaching out and looking over the still sealed drugs. She reached into the bag to take the emergency contraceptive, grimacing as she did. She swallowed hard before forcing a smile. "Lets blow this popsicle stand.


	8. Chapter 8

The car trip across New York, and then the plane ride was quiet at least. Darcy couldn't help but grimacing slightly in pain as her choice not to take any more pain killers revealed its not so happy side. She didn't want to be compromised, not when she didn't know what was going to happen. She instead focused on the notebook and the numbers. It wasn't until they got to the small, tidy little townhouse that she spoke.

"What happened to him?" Her eyes darted from Natasha to Phil, even as they drove into the garage.

"He had a run in with Iron Man." Natasha answered her.

Phil gave a soft almost laugh. "That is one way of putting it." He added, opening the door and gesturing them both inside. "There are three bedrooms and a study." He offered before frowning slightly, trying to figure out the logistics.

"I'll take over Clint's room." Natasha commented. "My room locks." She told Darcy. "Just let me get my stuff and I will show you it."

"I don't want to put you out." Darcy looked a little wide eyed.

"You aren't, Dashenka." Natasha gave her a gentle nudge as she went past. "I use it to store clothes and weapons." She frowned as she went upstairs and opened the door, amended that "Mostly weapons."

Darcy gave a small giggle at that. She edged forwards a little more, eyes taking in the floor plan of the townhouse. The three bedrooms upstairs, likely bathroom as well Study, living area and kitchen downstairs. She glanced around again, shifting in the lounge room to watch Phil, who was watching her.

"Kind of creepy Uncle Phil." Darcy commented softly.

Phil gave a half shrug. "I'm trying to figure out how to make you comfortable." He admitted. "Would you let me inspect your back? We have some waterproof dressings that should at least let you shower."

Darcy shook her head "You would have to cover my whole back." She swallowed hard. "If I let you pat them dry after, can I shower." She started to shiver. "I just need to get clean."

Phil gave a nod. "Bathroom is upstairs. Towels are under the sink. Between Natasha and I we should be able to get you something to fit." He moved slightly, giving her enough room to get upstairs without coming close to her.

Darcy knew he was giving her room, and took it, moving painfully up the stairs to the bathroom. Inside she shut the door, flicking the kind of useless privacy lock before turning the shower as hot as she thought she could stand. She did at least remember to pull out an over sized fluffy towel before dragging the hospital gown and pants off. She didn't look in the mirror, instead just about fell into the shower cubicle, her shaking turning into full bodied sobs as everything caught up with her.

\-------

Natasha slipped into the lounge chair after having cleared her room of weapons and the few clothes. She had some soft yoga style pants, underwear and an over sized shirt of Clint's in her hands.

"Tell me what you are thinking Natasha." Phil looked at her, face as bare of emotion as he could make it.

Natasha chewed her lip. "Honestly- she's going to be a mess. Rape and abuse like that- she is going to have scars. Add in that her mother had used red room techniques to basically create a deep cover personality to cover who she actually is." Natasha exhaled slowly. "I was younger then she was when Clint bought me in- not by much but I was." Her face was deadly serious. "I don't know that she will react like I did. In fact I seriously doubt she will. She has the knowledge of an operative but unless there are corpses in the basement it is unlikely she has used that knowledge on a living person."

"Suitability as a potential field agent.?" Phil asked her.

Natasha gave a shake of her head. "I don't know. What she has been through is enough to break most seasoned agents." She looked at Phil before crawling across the couch to curl around him.

Phil wrapped himself around her, smoothing her hair from her face. "I'm going to need you to check on her Natasha." He stroked her back with long sure strokes- everything about his touch was comforting and intimate in a way that was parental.

Natasha looked up at him and gave a nod. "I won't lose my shit till after." She told him, swallowing hard. "How bad is the damage?"

Phil exhaled sharply. "She has bruising from the rape- and was lucky enough she didn't tear. Bruising on her throat from being choked, arms and leg bruising, likely from defensive wounds. She was beaten with what looks like a belt on her torso till she bled. Then there are the bites- thigh, collarbone and neck. The wounds were open too long to stitch." His voice stayed impersonal, his mood given away by the shaking of the hand that ran across the red heads back. "Aside from the split lip he left her face alone."

"Ublyudok" Natasha snarled under her breath.

Phil kept stroking her gently, waiting for the tension to ease from the young woman. "Then there are the psychological impacts of everything. Her parents were killed within hearing distance. She was brutally beaten and raped. Her soulmate" Phil made a face "was killed and she had a life time of hypnotic suggestions lifted, leaving her adrift from all she has known."

Natasha rolled cat like to look at him and raised an eyebrow. "When you put it like that I am uncertain it is possible to have a worse week."

"Exactly." Phil answered.

"Its probably a good thing I took anything sharp out of the bathroom then." Natasha offered, listening to the sounds of the shower running. She twisted and stood up. "I'm going up. Is the main first aid kit still in your office?" She asked.

"Yes." Phil answered. "Just put it back when you are done. And write down if you use all of something."

"I'm Natasha, not Clint." Came the retort, even as Natasha collected the kit and went upstairs. She set the kit into her room, before going to the bathroom. She knew from experience that there just wasn't enough room in there to patch someone up comfortable. Especially not when one of those people was unpredictable.

Darcy flinched, and yelped at the knock on the door. She froze there, under the cooling spray of the shower.

"Darcy, its just me." Natasha kept her voice soft, like she was trying to convince a small animal that no, she wasn't a predator. "I'm just going to come in, see how you are doing-is that okay?"

Darcy tried to get her throat to work. Instead she curled around herself tighter, her whole body throbbing. Mutely she stared at her hand as she tried not to sink into the total and complete panic that threatened. She touched the cyrillic writing, faded now into white scars and felt a wave of total and complete self loathing. She needed it off, and dug her nails into the flesh of her wrist, scratching at the words.

"I'm letting myself in Darcy." Natasha warned her before unlocking the door from the outside. She paused as she stepped in before moving over to the young woman in the shower. She really was a mess, and unfortunately Natasha had seen- and done- worse to people. She snagged the towel as she came close, crouching down as she opened the shower door and turned off the spray. The towel wrapped around the girl, even as her hands wrapped around the others wrists.

Darcy stilled, wide and shocky eyes staring at Natasha. "He wouldn't use my name." She informed her. "I was property to him." Her voice shook. "Soul marks aren't always about love- mama told me that often but..." her breath exhaled shakily "There was nothing there."

"Nothing he did was your fault." Natasha told her softly, climbing into the roomy shower stall to curl around her. "His words on your wrist- and yours on his body- not even that was your fault." Natasha stroked her wet hair.

"Its because I'm broken, isn't it?" Darcy looked at her, eyes red rimmed and swollen.

"You aren't broken sladkiy sestra (sweet sister)." Natasha told her firmly. "Rape hurts, but it desn't make you broken, or any less, because of it."

"I wasn't talking about now." Darcy told her softly. "He enjoyed making me hurt" her voice was the barest whisper. "It excited him. Maybe the reason I've never felt- never wanted anyone is because I was supposed to be hurt."

"No, little one. No." Natasha's words were harsh. "Don't ever say that." She tilted the younger girls face up, her own eyes fierce. "Not being attracted to anyone- that has nothing to do with what that bastard did." 

Darcy blinked at her. "You're crying." She pointed out.

Natasha closed her eyes before exhaling. "Trust me little sister." She whispered softly before slipping her shirt off. She turned slightly to show the words curled around her shoulder blade. "Do you see these words?" She asked her.

Darcy traced one cold hand across them. "Your soul mark."

Natasha gave a low laugh. "Yeah- Clints mark." She shook her head "I was working as a mercenary after I left the room. I wasn't much younger then you. S.H.I.E.L.D sent their best sniper after me."

"This isn't telling me how I'm not broken." Darcy commented bitterly.

"I was trained to be sensual, sexual- to do whatever was needed. It didn't mean I ever wanted sex." Natasha told her. "My first words to him were 'Talk quick- you have ten seconds to convince me not to kill you'" she gave a wry smile.

"That makes it make more sense then anything I could come up with." Darcy admitted "Because 'I've got nothing' really wasn't something my brain can work with."

Natasha gave a soft laugh. "Yeah, I nearly shot him. Told him that he should probably run then because I didn't need any more blood on my hands." She swallowed hard. "He told me he couldn't let me face them alone. It wasn't until after the operatives had been disposed of that he offered me his hand and said 'I'm Clint Barton, I have your words. Don't freak out, I'm ace."

"He's what?" Darcy frowned at her.

"Ace. Asexual." Darcy blinked at Natasha's answer, opened her mouth then closed it again. She had heard the term bandied about, but the thought of sexuality and sex made her so uncomfortable that she had never really looked into it.

"Yeah. I was just as confused." Natasha admitted. "It wasn't until much later that I understood."

"I've never thought about." Darcy waved her hand. "Not in more then a yup that's a thing- way."

Natasha rather gently rubbed the towel against Darcy's body. "Clint isn't any more broken then me, not when it comes to sex." She told her. "Its alright to not have sexual attraction. Its alright to like guys, or girls. Its even alright to find yourself attracted to someone all of a sudden after knowing them for a while."

Darcy blushed at that. Natasha gave a small smile. "Want to get out of the shower?" She asked her. "I've got the first aid kit in your room, and some clothes." 

"I think I'm ready." Darcy waited for a rather damp Natasha to stand up. She barely blinked as she stripped wet jeans off and stood in just her underwear. 

"Let me help you." Natasha offered, helping her stand up.

Darcy leaned heavily against Natasha. "How does Phil fit in? And why do you call him Uncle Phil?"

Natasha led her back to the bedroom. "Uncle Phil- it started as a joke from what Clint says. He kind of adopted him and when Phil told Clint he was too young to be his father, he declared him his uncle. For me." Natasha sighed "I was maybe seventeen- at most- when Clint bought me in and needed to be taught how to be human and not a weapon." 

"So Uncle Phil." Darcy ducked her head down even as she set the towel down. 

"Yes, Uncle Phil." The red haired woman agreed before sighing "I have underwear." Natasha offered, handing her a pair. "It should be close enough to fit. I'll do a run to get some in your size later." 

Darcy pulled them on, then, as a seeming afterthought, grabbed a heavy flow pad off the dresser and put it on. "One of the girls I studied with used an emergency contraceptive. I'd rather be prepared." She flinched as it made her body ache and resisted curling back into a ball.

"Fair enough." Natasha pulled on gloves. "Are you going to be comfortable letting me put antibiotic and numbing cream on the bite on your thigh?"

Darcy gave a mute nod as she sat down and let the other woman treat and numb her wounds, looking anywhere but at her. 

"These shouldn't scar." Natasha offered, eyeing the bites critically. "Or if they do it should fade quickly." Her hands smoothed cream over Darcy's back. "I'm sorry." She told her. "I had hoped that no more girls would have their childhoods tainted by the program."

"That's not on you Natasha." Darcy's voice was quiet but firm. "My mom taught me these things so I could protect myself if they found her. Unfortunately she forgot that I am a walking, talking, thinking person who should have had the chance to make that choice." The brunette flinched as fingers hit one deep wound on her back. “At least I hope that was the mission objective.”

Natasha stilled a moment before pulling the gloves off. "All medicated up." She told her, pulling the shirt over and helping the teen into it. Next was the pants, which at least fit better.

"What happens now"?" Darcy asked her, all big eyes and wet hair.

"Right now little one, you have to heal." Natasha turned to look towards the doorway as she heard a person shifting. "We're decent" she looked at herself, dressed in underwear and shrugged. "Ish"

"One day we are going to have to have a conversation on what constitutes decent." Phil's eyes were warm, before he looked at Darcy seriously. "How are you feeling kid?"

"Like I was an over loved chew toy." Darcy replied. She felt stiff, and sore, and wanted answers. "What's the what Uncle Phil?"

Phil closed his eyes, sounding resigned. "You don't have to call me that if you don't want to."

Darcy shook her head "Tell me what you are going to be for me and I will tell you whether I should call you Uncle."

Phil exhaled and looked at her. "You present a rather large problem Darcy. You have training which, even if you never go into the field, put you at risk. Until Barton brings back all the information and it is gone over we won't know what other hypnotic suggestions are in place."

Darcy gave a nod. "It wasn't like I forgot. My mind knew I had done it, I just couldn't make myself think on it. It was like a story told to someone else only done with my own body."

Phil gave a nod. "That is interesting." He admitted. "I am here to give you somewhere safe- a home, if you want to look at it that way. There is minimum surveillance here- and none in your room." 

Darcy eyed him speculatively before giving a nod. "What happens when I am deemed safe."

Phil gave a sad little look. "Then we have to decide where in S.H.I.E.L.D you will fit best." He stepped into the room and did that whole seeming smaller then you were thing which was half innate and half trained.

"Because we all know that my face and my mothers have been seen together. Anyone with ties to the red room before it came to a sudden stop will come sniffing." Darcy sounded frusrated.

"Yes." Phil answered softly.

"I don't know that I could handle being in the field." Darcy informed him point blank. "Knowing that, would S.H.I.E.L.D still have a place for me."

"Yes." Phil answered "Though it does depend on you finishing your degrees up."

"Six science credits." Darcy looked at the neatly made bed. "Think I can find an internship over the summer in an out of the way place?" She raised a hand to forestall objections. "I can science, and math with the best but doing it in a controlled setting that will still let me." She hesitated. "I need therapy. I am wise enough to know that me dealing with all this isn't going to be as easy as, you know, letting the physical heal. What he did to me." She looked away, tearing up.

"You don't have to tell us Darcy." Phil made a movement as if to come closer and stopped, letting Darcy make the choice. The small movement was enough to leave her reaching for the older man.

"I don't know if I will bounce back from everything." Darcy's voice was muffled. "Mama tried to put as much into my head as she could so I could deal but I don't- no amount of preparation prepared me." 

Phil wrapped his arms around her and gently rocked her. He glanced at Natasha a moment before giving a gentle little kiss to her forehead. "How about you rest? Either Natasha or I will wake you for dinner." He added, shifting her gently up the bed and wrapping her in comfortable blankets.

Darcy curled up like a little hedgehog with a soft sigh. "Th'nks Uncle Phil." She offered, even as he limbs started to relax, the pain relieving rub doing its job. "Magic cream." She murmured, smiling a little at the soft chuckles.


	9. Chapter 9

Two weeks after she came to stay with Phil and Natasha, Darcy woke up screaming and fighting against the memory or hard hands touching her, holding her and of her hands dripping blood. She could hear mocking laughter and a voice telling her to remember.

She scrabbled for anything to protect herself with before she woke fully. It was then that she gagged, pushing her way up, and throwing up into a seemingly magically appearing waste paper bin. She gave a soft sobbing sound when she was done, one shaky hand lifting to cover her face. Her mouth tasted of vomit, but that was much better then- no, not thinking of that.

"Its Tuesday, early evening, you are in the lounge room of my house. I am Phil Coulson, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. You are safe. Vanko is dead. This was just a nightmare." The words were softly repeated over and over and Darcy gagged again, nothing left to come up but the taste of bile.

"Are you okay now?" Phil asked softly.

Darcy looked at him blankly before giving a nod. "Where's Natasha?"

"She went to pick Clint up. He's back." Came the answer.

Darcy eyed him cautiously before relaxing muscles which she had held tense. "Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize Darcy." Phil sat on the edge of the chair after shifting the makeshift bucket. "We all have nightmares." He offered her. "Its what makes us human"

"Do they ever go away?" Came the soft question.

Phil looked sad. "They never seem to go away completely, but they do eventually come less often. The fresher the trauma it seems the more your mind replays it." 

Darcy reached out and turned his hand over. She traced the callouses on it. "Wish it didn't." Her eyes kept tracing where her fingers ran over his palm.

"What do you see?" Phil asked her, curious.

Darcy traced one callous. "You shoot. Often enough that you have callouses. You take care of yourself- nails neatly trimmed, cuticles neat, hands moisturized- unscented." She looked him over. "You make people see you as someone to be overlooked but you aren't. It makes you dangerous because you are the one who gets underestimated."

Phil gave a small nod at that. "Now Natasha- tell me about her."

Darcy quirked an eyebrow. "I still have that urge to run and hide from her, but that is more left over from mom then an actual observation. She is surprisingly strong- at least for a woman of her size. Sensual enough that people think with whats between their legs then their brains. A dancer or gymnast- I couldn't tell you which unless I saw her move more- at a point where I am not high on drugs or in shock. Means she is flexible and fast regardless."

"Who would you try to turn, if you needed to?" Phil asked her.

Darcy hesitated before admitting. "Not enough data." She frowned. "I would require knowing more about you both psychologically." She chewed her lip "However- you hold Natasha's trust. Turning you would be the same as turning her."

Phil straightened at that, his breath leaving him sharply. "Please /don't/ repeat that to anyone."

Darcy looked at him before giving a nod. "I wouldn't." She looked him in the eye. "You are her family- remember that Uncle Phil. She would happily die to keep you safe because it is the debt that she thinks she owes you."

Phil gave a small nod at that, his jaw clenched. "I didn't intend for it to happen. I took both Clint, and then her in because they were both lost."

"Do you plan on saving me too?" Darcy's voice was mocking. "I don't need saving."

Phil stood slow enough not to startle her. "I know." He offered her a hand off the floor where she had ended up. "I can't force you to accept my help. I can only offer a hand." He hesitated "You still need to go to therapy. I can't let you get out of doing that."

Darcy glowered, even as she accepted the hand up. "I hate therapists. And social workers." She made a face before admitting "I had to see one when I was admitted to CalSci." She looked at him inquisitively, changing the subject. "So- are you married to the job?" 

Phil shook his head. "No- I'm actually in a long term relationship with an ADA, Alexandra Cabot."

"So what you are saying is that you are both married to your jobs?" Darcy gave a half smile. "Do you have each others words?"

Phil gave a shrug. "That is a little bit too personal Darcy." He admitted. Watching the young woman half flinch he added "I don't believe that having someones words on your body means that you are their one and only." He explained. "I do have her words, and she mine, however." He gave a half shrug "We spent over a year getting to know each other before we moved past a platonic relationship."

Darcy chewed her lip, wincing as she tore the freshly healed skin. "I wonder if its even possible to have a relationship without sex."

Phil stroked a hand over her head. "Natasha and Clint have a relationship closer then most who regularly sleep together. They complete each other."

"Yeah but" Darcy swallowed hard. "They have each others words. Sure I know that means sweet fuck all but..."

"But its nice to have the reassurance." Phil finished the thought.

"I don't know what I want." Darcy gave a low sigh. "I want some one one day." She stared at her hands. "Everything hurts too much to even." She chewed her lip, her fingers tapping code against her thigh.

"Darcy, can you use words for me?" Phil asked softly, his whole body relaxing to total harmlessness.

Darcy shook her head briefly, fingers rubbing against here wrist. She couldn't make the words form, at least not till a fragment of song flickered through her mind "You know dreams are just like lies, when you walk away? I never wanna feel again, as the the blackness settles in."

Phil inhaled softly, deciphering the song, before exhaling slowly. "At the moment thinking of the future is hurting too much." 

Darcy looked away before nodding. 

Phil tilted her face up. "You know how the rest of the song goes, right?" He asked her.

Darcy frowned and shrugged.

Phil gave a wry smile before continuing on with the song "And I only have one thing left to say. You're the reason that I'm alive, twist that knife but I just won't die. You're the reason that I'm alive, leave you here as you watch me fly away."

Darcy gave a small snort at that.

"Yeah, I know. In my defense, drowning pool isn't exactly what I'm used to singing." Phil defended himself before adding "You are strong enough to survive Darcy. That knife has been twisted, so to speak and you are still alive, still fighting and still living." 

Darcy teared up a little at that and wiped her face. "I feel weak." She admitted. Should have been able to fight back, to get away, anything."

"Oh kiddo. You may have been taught to fight- but until the suggestion as lifted you still were Daria, raised in a civilian life, who took self defense with your dad as a teen." He rocked her slightly as she leaned against him.

"I miss that girl." Darcy sniffled against him. "Its exhausting looking at everything and seeing how to use it as a weapon. Its frustrating to look at someone and just know if they are lying because their micro expressions give them away." Her eyes were serious as she looked at him. "I miss that girls innocence. Bad things happened to other people. All Daria had to worry about was math, and passing poli-sci."

"Would you go back to being that girl, if it meant that you stayed under the hypnotic suggestion?" Phil asked her.

Darcy looked at him. "Are you seriously doing this now?" She asked him, getting a raised eyebrow. "Psych ask you to do the initial intakes or is this a 'how messed up is she really' talk?"

Phil gave a half smile. "You caught on quicker then Clint but not as quick as Natasha." He shifted and resettled himself. "Honestly- I'm trying to figure out which of the psychologists to send you to. By getting honest answers I can figure out who you would work well with and who you would either drive to drink or quitting within a month."

Darcy settled back "Fair enough." her face was thoughtful. "I wish that what happened hadn't happened. That I could go home and have my mama make dumplings and dad tease me about still not dating. That I didn't have to- that I wasn't raped." The word sounded fake, shaky on her tongue, but at least she said it. "As exhausting as it is I don't want to change who I am. I feel like some parts of me were been wrapped up and dulled." She rubbed her wrist again, frowning slightly "I don't know that I want to change that because its who I am."

Phil seemed to relax even more, his face actually showing relief. "I'm glad." 

Darcy gave a half smirk. "So- does this mean you can quit with the personal questions?"

"I only have one more." Phil offered mildly.

Darcy looked at him suspiciously. "What is that exactly?"

"Chocolate or vanilla ice cream?" 

Darcy considered "Vanilla with cinnamon?" She asked, peeking over the edge of the couch as she heard Natasha's bike pull in. She kept watching, barely peeking above the couch as Natasha bought her soulmate in.

"Hey Dashenka." The red head gave a quick smile at her. 

Darcy gave a quick smile, eyeing the newcomer. On seeing him she grinned "Eto vash yastreb, Natka? Pokhozhe, on dal by khoroshiye ob"yatiya." She teased. (This is your hawk, Natka? He looks like he'd give good hugs.)

Natasha threw her head back and laughed. "YA podelyus' yego s soboy mladshuyu sestru." (I'll share him with you little sister.)

"Ne mogu poluchit' pravo golosa?" (Don't I get a say) Clint asked, half pouting.

Darcy blinked "Dude- your accent sucks."

"Its not so bad for an American." Natasha interjected, even as she wrapped herself around Darcy. She caught the slight flinch and hugged her tighter. 

Phil padded out armed with ice cream, which he offered first to Darcy before the other two. He pulled Clint into a hug as he handed his treat off before eying him. "Be gentle Clint." 

Clint gave a nod before settling onto the back of the lounge chair to eat his chocolate ice cream. "I'm Clint." He offered. "But you knew that."

Darcy nodded, taking a couple of sweet vanilla and cinnamon bites. "So." Her eyes were harder. "What exactly did you find in my basement?"

Clint looked at the floor. "You know the equipment we found, and the drugs."

"I need specifics. I can only guess that they were to make my brain more suggestible to the hypnotic suggestions." Darcy exhaled. "They were, weren't they. The drugs were to make me more suggestible. If there were files I could probably write a cypher so they are readable. I'm pretty sure I know which code mom would have used." Her eyes went to Phil "I'm guessing its not exactly something I am going to get my eyes on any time soon."

"No, its not." Phil admitted.

Darcy sighed, hand rubbing at one of the half healed wounds as it started to itch. "That sucks. I just can't remember the specifics and I think I need to." She looked away, tight faced, before taking another bite of ice cream, then feeding Natasha some. "You'll tell me if, like, I'm going to go on a killing spree won't you?" She asked him. "You won't let me put anyone at risk."

"Shh, sestra. I will take you down- permanently if I have to, to keep the people around you safe." Natasha's words were a soft croon.

Darcy relaxed against her with a sigh. "I hold you to that promise." She twisted to look at her adopted sister. "If you have to, hold no guilt about it Natka. Do not feel guilty if you take my life, because I want it as an outcome." She frowned "Just, uh, be certain ok?" She scratched at the scar again.

Natasha touched her arm, pulling her hands away from the scar. She peeked at the teens back before sighing. "Let me put the cream on."

Darcy rubbed her face before chasing the last of her ice cream. "Fine." She grimaced, pulling the long sleeved shirt off and looking at the floor.

"Belt marks suck." Clint's voice drew Darcy's eyes to him, and she met his eyes, seeing, not disgust or pity, but understanding.

"Wouldn't be so bad if the didn't itch so much." Darcy complained, sighing at the relief of the cream being applied.

"Yeah- and nothing is worse then splitting the freshly healed skin." Clint made a face. "That I know from experience."

Darcy gave a shy smile. "Was that in the circus?"

Clint gave a small nod. "Yeah it was. It wasn't a bad life."

"It makes you sad though, thinking of it." Darcy told him softly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." 

Clint shifted close to her. "Hey." He smiled at her. "I learned to shoot in the circus, and it was pretty awesome. I wouldn't have minded staying a while longer, and having the choice to leave."

Darcy looked at him. "Natka told me about you growing up in the circus but she didn't" she looked down. "She didn't say why you left."

Clint sat on the floor and pulled at the threads of the carpet. He looked up at Phil shifted, giving a quick smile and shake of the head. "You really like knowing the hard to answer stuff." He admitted. "I was just sixteen when I walked in on my brother and his mentor stealing the takings for the month. I tried to stop them."

"Guess that didn't go so well." Darcy said softly.

"No." Clint sighed. "The thing is- I knew how to defend myself, and how to fight. They were just better."

Darcy swallowed hard before shifting and dragging him into a hug. It wasn't the same thing, the same trauma, but it was close enough. Both of them had been hurt by people who should have protected them and both of them survived. 

Clint stilled in her arms a moment before wrapping her in a brotherly hug. Darcy let him go eventually, looking up at Phil who had come back in. "You two have that psychic thing going, don't you?" She asked, tucking her knee up to her chest. 

Clint made an inquisative sound, and Natasha shook her head slightly. "I'm guessing Uncle Phil pinned you for that how are you really doing talk."

Darcy gave a small, half hearted smile. "I still don't want to do therapy. I don't want to remember what happened." She looked back at Uncle Phil. "When is my first appointment going to be?"

"Tomorrow." Phil answered. "We will all be heading into the hub for it."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions. We have emotions and stuff.
> 
> TW for discussion of child abuse and rape and guilt associated with both.
> 
> I keep meaning to mention- Darcy using lyrics as a way of putting forth emotions is something I started doing when trying to discuss traumatic stuff. It is a way of coping and is still something I do now and then. Yes, it is also why Darcy likes her ipod so much.

From the outside, the hub looked like any other military base. Once they were inside, Darcy found, it was totally different. She couldn't help but look around, wide eyed, her temporary Level 1 pass clipped to her clothes. It was reassuring, she thought, that even as Phil had to see to his actual job, that Natasha and Clint stayed close.

"So- did Coulson tell you what time I'm supposed to meet with the doc?" Darcy asked, eyes darting around and watching the agents passing around them. Her mind assessed each and every person that passed her, and it was putting her on edge.

"Easy Darce." Clint stepped closer, close enough to brush against her arm. "Just breathe. We will go to a private room and eat." He offered.

Darcy swallowed hard, flinching at a loud laugh, her heart pounding in her chest. "Need to write." She shook slightly before moving to a seat, pulling her tablet out and starting to tap out something which was indecipherable- math in its pure form.

Clint, who hadn't seen this behavior, looked at Natasha with a tilt of an eyebrow.

"Its how she deals with stress." Natasha murmured. "She does math, or writes code." Her eyes settled on Darcy a moment. "Its not the most healthy way of coping, but I have seen worse."

"I've done worse." Clint replied. He sighed. "What do you think she will want to eat?"

"She can still hear, and she doesn't care." Darcy frowned, even as she started another line of code, hmming softly.

"Hot dogs it is." Clint grinned before bouncing off to get lunch.

Darcy tapped the side of her tablet before looking up at Natasha. "I suppose you think I am weak. I can't even deal with a room full of people who don't -" she wrapped an arm about herself in a one armed hug. 

"Weak is not a word I would use or you. Stubborn, or strong, yes, but not weak." Natasha's words were soft. "They may be agents, but very few of them will ever face what you have, and of those not many will escape with their self worth or their sanity intact."

"That is implying we have sanity in the first place." The woman who spoke was asian, her age anywhere from 25 to 50. "Melinda May." The woman offered a hand.

"Darcy Lewis." Darcy shook her hand, habit taking over. She looked back at her tablet longingly. 

"What are you doing?" Agent May asked.

"Stress relief." Darcy replied. "Trying to work on a code to get into..." her voice trailed off and smirked. "I have a certain mainframe that I have been trying to get into. Its like...a game of chess, only without pieces."

"Who exactly are you trying to hack."

"Stark's personal servers." Darcy offered, tapping away again before shaking her head. "Its difficult because its like the coding is alive. It shifts and changes like you would expect a human mind. If I didn't know better I would say he has figured out how to create sentience in an AI."

Natasha cocked her head at her. "Do you? Know better." 

Darcy looked at her solemnly. "I believe he has managed an artificial intelligence that has the capability to learn." She offered. "I wouldn't know if it has person hood until I can interact with it without a tablet as a translator. The tablet just isn't" Darcy waved her hand "Its kind of like trying to run a ten year old laptop on the latest operating system. It just doesn't work."

"Don't piss off Stark. He already makes himself a pain in the ass." Agent May shook her head at Darcy.

"So- what super secret area of S.H.I.E.L.D. do you work in?" Darcy asked, changing the subject.

"Administration." Came the flat reply from Agent May.

Darcy gave a slow blink before looking at Natasha.

"Yes Darcy, if you really want we can hide you in admin." Natasha told her with a half smile.

"What if I don't want admin?" Darcy practically pouted "I'm sure I could make a good cafeteria staffer."

"That would mean people." Natasha replied.

Darcy opened her mouth, thought about it a moment, then closed her mouth. "Ok, that could be a flaw. And the whole I still can't cook anything more then pop tarts and MRE's."

"I don't think anyone would actually notice." Agent May commented wryly.

Darcy looked at her in contemplation. "So." She cocked her head and smirked "Does the paperwork get unruly, and do you think I could tazer people who piss me off?"

"Tazing people means more paperwork." Clint cheerfully commented, balancing plates with hot dogs on them. "At least if you do it on site. Its better to sneak up and taze them after their shift, when they aren't expecting it."

"Because shooting people in the ass with tazing arrows doesn't scream conspicuous." Agent May shook her head and sighed. "Watch out for Barton, Lewis, he has the worst sense of humor." 

"Says you, who Coulson says managed to prank her way to three SO transfers." Clint stuck his tongue out.

"You are secretly twelve, aren't you?" Darcy asked.

"I'd have put him at ten." Natasha answered, nudging her own hot dog before shrugging and taking a bite. "Want to try eating something kid?"

Darcy looked at the hot dog and bun which she had started pulling apart. She swallowed hard before taking a tentative bite. She got half way through before setting it down and sighing.

"It took me over a month to be able to keep a meal down after Bahrain." Agent May said softly. "I don't know what happened, but I can see something happened for Phil to take you under his wing." 

"That obvious huh." Darcy's smile was fake and brittle.

"Only if you know what to look for." The answer was from Natasha, and Darcy glared at her.

"I'm being honest sladkiy sestra." (Sweet sister) Natasha answered her softly. "You are hypervigilent. You barely eat and wake with nightmares most nights."

Darcy shook her head sharply, fingers starting to tap. 

"Use words Darcy." Natasha reminded Darcy.

Darcy jerked her head before singing softly "It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back. It's like a whirlwind inside of my head. It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within. It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin."

Clint jerked slightly, looking at Darcy, eyes gentle. "Aww, Darce." He wrapped her in a hug. "Its not paranoia. What you are feeling is normal." He looked her in the eye. "You'll talk to the doc about this, right?" He asked her. "Cos much as I want to fix this shit for you- I don't think tequila and bar fights are going to cut it."

"No, they won't Barton."

It was to Darcy's relief that she wasn't the only one who jumped. It was to much amusement however that she was not the only one wielding a spork.

Coulson quirked one eyebrow at the quartet. "Miss Lewis, if you would come with me?"

Darcy swallowed hard, feeling like the half a hot dog she had eaten was trying to escape before standing and taking a position just behind and to the side of Agent Coulson.

"Barton, stay out of the ceiling spaces and duct work. Romanoff, don't maim anyone. May." Coulson paused "Get outside for some sun- or go visit the Nursery. They have been asking about you."

Agent May stiffened slightly before relaxing. "I'll head out after lunch." She got a gentle little smile on her face. 

Agent Coulson gave a slight inclination of his head. "I will tell the Caretakers to expect you then."

"Yes sir." Agent May set her hands against the table, looking, right in that moment, that there was nothing to worry about.

It wasn't until they were out of earshot that Darcy made a soft sound. "Sir- what is the Nursery?"

Agent Coulson- because here, right now, he was not Uncle Phil, gave an almost smile. "The Nursery is highly classified, however, because of the residents similarities with you- both in age and upbringing, the director has given the okay for you to know and to interact." He stepped into a lift, waiting for her to follow before closing the doors. He hit a random seeming code for the floor level and looked at Darcy.

Darcy gave an exasperated sigh. "Uncle Phiiiil." She whined, pouting slightly.

Phil gave a quick grin. "The Nursery goes back to Agent May's last mission as a Specialist. She took down a compound after being taken captive. She found." Phil exhaled "She was in a base we believed to be based off of hydra who were trying to recreate Erskines serum. They were using orphans."

Darcy exhaled, swearing softly. "How many survived?" She asked him, jaw tight.

"A handful." Phil answered. "None of them are older then 15 now. The eldest were barely in puberty when they were rescued."

"What side effects do they have?" Darcy's voice was quiet, mind going over data.

Phil gave a wry shrug "It caused non x-gene mutations. If it had mutated the x gene then there would have been a more...suitable place to send them."

"It didn't so they get a S.H.I.E.L.D facility instead." Darcy commented.

"The facility is set up more like a group home. We even take in transition kids that are headed to a mutant safe house." Phil looked tired. "It isn't the ideal situation, but it is the one we had. The kids are happy now- and safe." 

"Where is the Nursery?" Darcy asked him with a frown.

Phil rested his hand against her arm and spoke softly. "Its classified." He admitted, even as his fingers tapped out a quick pattern.

Darcy gave a mock scowl. "Well" she pouted. "Can't help but ask." She looked at him and gave a flicker of a nod. Her breath left her before she swallowed hard. "I still don't want to do this."

"It has to be done. Its going to hurt but it has to be done." Phil tugged her against him in a hug. "Dr. Mackenzie is one of the good ones. " he reassured her softly. "I promise."

"Pinky swear?" Darcy held out her hand, pinky sticking up, and gave a watery chuckle when Phil shook on it. A chuckle that faded when they stepped out of the elevator and into the psych wing of the med center.

Darcy looked around and gave a snort. "This....is not the most reassuring look." She shook her head, taking in the blinding white and sterileness of the area.

"The actual consult rooms are more welcoming." A voice cut in and Darcy blinked at the sight that met her.

"Dr Mackenzie." Phil gave an inclination of his head in greeting, a flicker of a smile on is face. "This is Darcy Lewis."

"Nice to meet you Darcy" Dr Mackenzie was no taller then Darcy herself, but where Darcy was best described as voluptuous, the doctor was whip cord thin, with elfin features and pale blond hair. 

Darcy looked at her as if she were the single most frightening thing on earth. "Eh, well." She swallowed hard and shrugged. "Nice meeting you too Doc."

The doctor looked at Phil a moment before making a shooing gesture. "Go, get." She told him, shaking her head as he left. "Phil's a worrier." She informed her before shifting away from the wall. "Let me show you to my office." She offered, leading her into a room which was vibrant and filled with stuff- from brightly colored cushions, bits of art and sculpture, random bits of pieces like balls, bears and piles of paperclips.

Darcy blinked as she took it all in, this really not what she was expecting. "Are you sure you aren't a dragon? No, not a dragon, too much snuggly stuff and not enough shiny. You are a total pack rat." 

"I am, yes." Doc Mac huffed out an amused breath before shutting the door and curling up in a single overstuffed arm chair. "I like stuff- its good to distract, and to help focus on if we get to the point you want to talk about what happened."

Darcy stiffened, looking lost a moment before exhaling sharply. "I don't want to talk about what he did." She curled up into a similar armchair, pulling a knitted throw around and playing with its softness. "Not in detail anyway." 

"I don't expect you too Darcy." Doc Mac commented firmly. "Yes, you need to talk about how it makes you feel, and how you are feeling now- but you don't have to talk about what you had have happen to you."

"I refused to tell the detectives what happened." Darcy finally responded, after a moment of taking in her words. "I'm pretty sure what he did- I know they know- just like I know Nat and Clint and Uncle Phil know- at least as much as the scars and my medical chart tells."

"Its not the whole story, is it?" The doctors voice was mellow, leading her to talk- and she did want to talk. Not about the physical trauma, but how damaged she felt now.

"No, its not." Darcy tapped against the side of the chair, swallowing hard. "To him- I wasn't a person. I was a thing to be used and hurt because he wanted it." Her nails dug into her hand. "And then, in the hospital, it- my mom." She shook her head hard, words slipping away from her.

"The rewriting of your mind your mother did." Doc Mac made it a statement, getting a curt nod. "Agent Coulson told me that you get stuck on words. Its ok, promise. It doesn't mean you are broken- it means that your brain can't figure out how to make what you are feeling into words."

Darcy hummed a fragment of song, before singing the words to Evanescence's Breathe no more. 

"I can work with that." Doc Mac cocked her head at Darcy. "Is that how it makes you feel- like you doubt that your mom saw you, loved you- when there was this other you that was hidden away."

Darcy nodded. "How can- she hid me. I can't." The teen wiped her face and looked at the tears on her fingers. "How do I know I'm me if I can't trust anything?"

"You create yourself again Darcy." Doc Mac answered her quietly. "I can't tell you the motivations behind why your mother did those things. She abused you." As Darcy stiffened the doctor raised a hand. "She drugged you and conditioned you not to speak about your training- training which left emotional scars that you are now trying to integrate into your own personality. It was controlling and abusive."

Darcy mutely shook her head. "I didn't- if it were anyone else I would have." She shook her head "If it was a friend going through it I would have gotten them out. It was my mom though. She made me pancakes with cinnamon and apples on Saturdays then take me downstairs to the training room, dose me up with drugs then teach.." she shook her head sharply.

"Its hard to get your head around, isn't it?" Doc Mac asked softly, getting a small nod in return. 

"Its like she was mom most the time, but downstairs....downstairs she was Krasnyy Uchitel" Darcy frowned as she slipped into Russian.

"What does that mean Darcy?" Doc Mackenzie queried softly.

"It means Red Teacher." Darcy looked stricken. "I don't remember." Her hands tangled in her own hair, eyes closing as she struggled to put her mind in order and find the fake memories around the real. 

Darcy gave a sob of frustration, looking up at Doc Mac. "She had me call her the same thing she called her own teacher. I don't know why though." 

"Is the important why?" Mac asked her gently.

Darcy shrugged. "I don't know." She admitted. "That is the god damned problem. I just don't know. Was mom trying to protect me, or was she still Red Room? Am I my own person or am I going to turn?" 

Doc Mac looked at her before shrugging. "Are you feeling particularly like turning?"

Darcy gave a snort "No." She admitted "But before the facade was lifted I didn't think I could tell when someone was lying, or how to tell how many weapons are on a person and how to use everyday objects to both take down or kill with."

"I see your point." Doc cocked her head like an overly inquisitive bird. "Whether there is a trigger, or isn't what matters is now. Think of it like cancer- if you spend your whole life worrying about getting cancer then you forget how to live."

 

Darcy went back to fiddling with the throw blanket. "It just sits there in the back of my head. I mean- so much happened- but being taken and hurt- it was nothing compared to my moms actions my whole life."

"Can you say the words then?" Mac asked her. "Can you say 'I was raped. My body was used against me and it wasn't my fault."

Darcy looked at her, eyes wet. "How can you know that?" She felt like her heart was pounding. "He made parts of it feel good but I didn't want it."

Mac moved to her, reaching out to take her hand, pulling it away from the wrist she was gouging at. "Its alright Darcy. Sex- your body protects itself. The nerve endings throughout your body when touched in a certain way feel good- even if the touch is a violation. It wasn't your fault, you didn't want it, no matter if what he did felt good at times. You didn't want it, and that still makes it rape."

Darcy sobbed, hiding her face against the doctor, shoulders shaking. "He r-raped me, and hurt me and made it feel good and it wasn't my fault."

Mac kept holding her, letting the younger woman cry herself into exhaustion as she gently soothed her. Eventually she shifted, guiding her onto a day bed tucked to the side of the room. "You rest Darcy. You did really well." She stroked her hair away from her face.

Darcy half frowned at her, absolutely exhausted. "Should go." She murmured.

"You rest." Doc Mackenzie gave a gentle little smile. "I'm going to get myself lunch and then I'll come back. I'll bring Phil or Natasha or Clint with me to take you back out, if you want."

Darcy frowned before nodding, snuggling under the knitted throw.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc Mac's reaction

Outside of her office, Mac swore, slamming a fist against the wall, swearing viciously and harshly.

"I guess that answers how it went." Phil looked at her solemnly, jaw tight.

Mac took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. "The bastard made her enjoy it." She growled, looking at Coulson. "Well, parts of it, which on top of everything else." She exhaled, contemplating the wall like she really wanted to hit it again. "She should be asleep by now."

Phil nodded slightly before offering the coffee in his hand and take away sandwich. "I'm sorry but not sorry that I asked for you for her."

Mac took a gulp of coffee before admitting "She's worried that her mom was still red room- and is kind of freaking the fuck out over the thought there could be another trigger phrase to strip back more of her personality."

Phil looked at her a moment, before stepping into the doctors actual office, and not the therapy office. He looked at a bare wall a moment, waiting till Mac was in and the door shut. "Her mother was still working for the Red Room- Darcy- she was a new generation of operatives." The agent paused slightly before continuing "She was also funneling us information through another of our contractors through Darcy."

"How?" Mac blinked at him, trying to work that out.

"Classified."

"So- the chances of her having a trigger?" Mac asked him.

"Very low to non existent." Came Agent Coulsons reply.

"Think you should actually tell her that?" Mac asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. "It might help her with the whole hating and fearing herself thing."

"I'll tell her tonight." Phil rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"How are you coping with another stray Phil?" Mac looked the agent over.

"I forgot how exhausting it was." He admitted. "She had nightmares often, forgets how to speak and scrawls numbers and code everywhere." He did sound amused at least.

"You missed it, didn't you?" She asked.

Phil gave a low laugh. "Yeah, I did." He cocked his head at her. "She's been approved to visit the nursery- and stay when the house is going to be empty. What time frame do you think we should have with meeting the other kids?"

Mac hmmed slightly. "Honestly- give her a day or two to recover from this session, then take her out."

Phil nodded slightly. "Agreed. Now- how do you think they will take her?"

Mac gave a soft giggle. "Max will want to play escape and evade, Dawn will love her, and likely want to create code. Its hard to say what goes on in Neri's head, but I can't see there being much of a problem although that depends on whether she even gets out of the pool. She has the maturity to deal with anything she picks up though- and knows how to keep her mind to herself."

"What of Xan, Zac and Alec?" Phil asked. "Since you covered the girls, how do you think the guys will cope?"

Mac gave a small wiggle of her hand. "Zac will likely be suspicious. He is the eldest and he is protective of his siblings. Alec." Mac shook her head "If we are lucky he won't try and flirt. I might have to give them a bit of a heads up to tone things down."

"You still haven't said anything about Xan." Phil prompted her.

"I don't know how he will cope." Mac admitted "He doesn't have half the control of Neri- mostly because his mental gifts lean towards empathy rather then thoughts. I wish so damned bad we knew exactly what was given to them, at least to give the kids a buffer. Xan does not cope well with negatibe emotions, especially since he isn't as strong on the telepathy front unless he's touching."

"And Darcy is so full of pain." Phil rubbed his face again.

"As I said- I will need to warn them. The youngest of the kids will take their cue from the older two. A heads up to those six though would make sense." Mac looked him over before relenting "No details, just that they are going to meet another who needs the support of the Nursery."

"Alright." Phil looked at the clock before shifting towards the door. "I should probably get Darce up and moving and out of here."

"Phil- you are doing a good job with her." Her smile was soft. "You have a heart the size of the universe."

"Thanks Mac." Phil ducked his head down before asking. "I'm sorry you know, that you weren't the one for me."

"Don't be sorry Phil. You and I are much better as friends. I've met Alex, she is perfect for you."

Phil gave a shy grin. "She kind of is." He ducked his head down a moment befre resettling back into the almost robotic lookng Agent Coulson. "I'll get Ms. Lewis. She tends to wake violently when touched."

"Don't we all?" Mac asked, following him out and keying him into her therapy room, just watching as he went to wake her.

"Darce, sweetheart." Phil crouched in such a way he didn't throw a shadow. "Its Phil, you are in Doc Mac's room at the Hub. You are safe." He started the familiar litany before reachong out and brushing her face.

Darcy woke, reacting on instinct and lashing out where an attacker would be before her mind caught up with where she was, and Phil's words. She jerked her hand through her hair and flicked her eyes around, looking for danger, escape routes- everything she needed.

As she relaxed, Phil offered a slight smile, standing up. "Ready to go home kiddo?"

Darcy swallowed and leaned against him. "Yeah." She rubbed her eyes, looking at the doctor. "Same time next week?" She asked.

"Yup." Doc Mac tilted her head "What's your favorite candy?" She asked suddenly.

"Hershey's kisses and skittles." Darcy replied with a half smile.

"I'm regretting this already." Phil lamented.

Darcy grinned before shrugging "Well, you wanted me to do therapy. You reap the consequences."

"Really is your fault Phil. Of all the psych's, you chose me." Mac grinned and offered a wave before heading out.

"Hey Uncle Phil?" Darcy asked softly "Thank you." She gave him a nudge. "Maybe therapy isn't going to be so bad. Maybe, just maybe? It helped a little."

"Just a little?" Phil raised one eyebrow at her.

"Itty bitty bit." Darcy replied with a grin that lit up her face.

Maybe things really would work out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Red Room style training. Trigger warnings apply. Section is marked.

Darcy wasn't sure on what she thought of the Nursery. It was more homey then the Hub, and close enough by to be technically part of it. The kids there were all younger then her- but not by much. Currently she was having a staring competition with the eldest of the 'kids, Zac.

 

"Look, I'm not a threat. I don't want to be here any more then you do. Doc Mac thought we could get along." She flinched and backed up as he moved towards her, the action taking her by surprise. She tucked herself into her oversized sweater more, hands clinging to the fabric.

"How can we get along when you are disgusted by us?" Zac snarled at her.

Darcy frowned before giving a snarl of her own, not as impressive but still fierce enough to show her displeasure. "Fuck it." She bit out. "I'm not disgusted by you I just."

"She's scared." The words came from a brown eyed kid who looked at the most thirteen. His eyes had a reflective coating which, when it caught the light, shone silvery. 

"Scared of us, disgusted by us- not much of a difference." Zac glared at the kid. "You shouldn't be here Xan. I told you all to stay out of here till I made sure it was safe."

"Its not you I'm scared of. Well it is but not /you/ you." Darcy tucked her chin down slightly before adding softly. "I got hurt recently and- well, you are kind of big, you know." She forced herself to breathe before adding "Its not you I'm scared of its my brain just messing with me."

The smaller teen figure darted out and hugged her, and Darcy blinked, tears coming to her eyes as she felt nothing but fierce protection.

"She's ours Zac. I'm keeping her." The little brunette declared. He looked at her before giving a half smile "Zac's the oldest here. He's sixteen. Then there is Max who is fifteen. Max is a girl. Her and Zac got the same version of the drug. They gave us a different one. Well, them two and Alec who we think is fifteen. He didn't have a birthdate. Neri's fourteen and me and Dawnie are twelve."

"Wait- drugs?" Darcy blinked, wide eyed. "S.H.I.E.L.D drugged you?" She tensed, going on alert, only relaxing when both the other teens declared S.H.I.E.L.D.'s innocence.

"Agent May saved us. We didn't all get out though." Xan admitted.

"The drug they gave us three managed to enhance speed, strength and healing." Zac looked away "It was thought to be a success until the seizures started."

"What were they after?" Darcy asked him softly.

Zac tensed and looked away, blond hair flopping across his face.

"They wanted to recreate Captain America." Xan's voice was soft. "Will was better at explaining. She actually understood it. They took her away though and-" Xan bit his lip. "They kind of used a drug that had gene sequences from other animals in it. It was supposed to bring out any dormant genetics. Instead they got those three with all they wanted and seizures, me who feels too much, Neri who knows what you think and Dawnie." Xan exhaled sharply. "Doc Mac called Dawnie a natural polyglot. It doesn't matter the language if she is around a native speaker she just...learns it."

"Huh." Darcy looked at the floor before looking up at Zac. Quid pro quo was a good way of gaining trust. "I was kidnapped by the man whose words are on my skin and my parents killed. I found out after that my mother was part of a russian program which used drugs and psychological retraining and other techniques to mold children into weapons. She then used the same techniques on me my whole life which I didn't know about until after I was kidnapped and the facade of a personality which I thought was me was dissolved using a trigger phrase."

Zac shifted towards her before shrugging and giving a wry smile, coming down off of his alert state. "Welcome to the family."

Darcy gave a sly grin "Do you guys call Agent Coulson Uncle Phil too?" She asked.

Xan gave a giggle and shook his head. "Do you think he would mind?" The teen blinked at her. "I had an uncle once, at least I remember an uncle." 

"I think he won't mind if you mean it." Darcy answered.

"Its not right though. We need to respect the agents." Zac commented, glaring a little again.

Darcy shook her head. "You need to chill. The agents are people too."

"We were trained to be soldiers. We have to respect our superiors." Zac responded.

Darcy shook her head at that. "Just because someone is older then you, or in charge, doesn't make them superior."

"Teaching anarchy Lewis?" Came a dry comment, and Darcy grinned over her shoulder.

"Aww Agent May, you know you love it. Can I point out the poli-sci degree? So much of it is pulling apart arguments and teaching people to think for themselves."

"Ideas are dangerous." May responded, a slight smile gracing her lips.

Darcy shrugged "Nothing is more dangerous then an idea when it is the only one you have." She quoted Emily Chartier back at her. "If your thinking can't adapt then you are stuck with one means of motion- one way of thinking." She explained for the two boys sake.

Zac shook his head. "A soldier doesn't need to think, he just does what he is ordered to."

"That is a good way to end up dead." Darcy told him gently "Or for your squad to end up dead." She moved to the whiteboard wall and picked up a pen, writing part of a cypher down. "Do you know what this is?" She asked him.

"Its code of some sort." Zac responded.

"Yes, it is. Now" Darcy wrote something else down, similar to the first code but shifting ever so slightly. "Now- this one- what do you see?"

"Its the same only." Zac frowned.

"It's not the same." A girl with long brown hair and the biggest blue eyes ever announced, moving to cling to Xan's hand. "The second one evolved from the first."

"Exactly." Darcy added more to the board, before recapping the bend. "Ideas are fluid. Thoughts are fluid- they change depending on circumstances." She looked over it before turning and looking at the others in the room.

"Blind obedience is dangerous. If you can't think for yourself then you can't lead. Look at it this way- you say you were trained to be a soldier your whole life from the people who had you, right?" Darcy continued at the nod "What were your orders should the base of operations be taken by hostile forces?" She raised a hand as May shifted to move between them.

"Escape and evade." Zac answered quietly. "Take infiltrators down hard. Rendezvous at secondary location."

"And what did you do?" Darcy asked softly.

"It's not the same." Zac bit out. "We were going to be terminated anyway because we are flawed."

"People are flawed." Darcy answered. "So what did you do?"

"I helped Agent May and evacuated the kids." Zac answered quietly.

"How many did you lose?" Darcy asked him, watching as he stared at his hands and at how Xan clung to the slightly younger girl. 

"Too many."

"That's enough Darcy." Agent May's voice was fierce. "Stop interrogating him."

Darcy looked at her blankly. "Usually interrogations have more blood and screaming." She blanched, catching a full memory, one which she hadn't had the chance to assimilate from the training sessions to her life now. She could feel the blood on her hands, smell it. She gagged before bolting from the room blindly, not knowing her way around but needing away to deal with the memories of what she had done and been made forget.

Xan flinched from his sister, eyes wide even as he scrambled to his 'brother'. "So much blood." His voice was soft. "How can you forget that much blood?"

Darcy flinched away from the words, hitting out as Agent May went to grab her arm, turning with her and aiming for the soft points. Her hits were more a distraction for her to run, which she did as soon as the agent lost her grip.

Darcy made her way up- always up when down was bad and memories and blood and a little girls tears. She wedged herself in tight, struggling not to make a sound, to just breathe, to just remember.

*************** Non graphic sexual assault of a child and non graphic torture.

She had been young, the room had felt so big, and so did the scalpel in her had. So did Krasnyy Uchitel. She was wearing her favorite sundress, she would wear it as often as possible the summer she turned ten. Se remembered that much, and remembered that it had gone missing mid summer. 

The sun had been hot as she played in the park, watching him as much as he watched her. She had her orders, get him to follow her to the rendezvous no matter what. His hands on her skin was gentle, so very gentle for all that his touches lingered. His voice was just as soft, she remembered that, and the smell of cheap aftershave.

She remembered the feel of him pressing her against the floor, she remembered his hands.

She remembered.

She remembered the blood later, where the Red Teacher took him to the room. She remembered that pop and tearing sound when a scalpel split skin.

She remembered.

Blood.

Screaming.

She remembered Red Teachers praise.

Darcy remembered and cried, wishing she didn't.

*********************** POSSIBLE TRIGGER AREA MOSTLY DONE

"Dasha, sestra." Natasha's voice was a balm and Darcy uncurled, throwing herself at her, shaking hard. 

"I was ten." Darcy's voice cracked as she looked at her honorary big sister. "Mama was Krasnyy Uchitel."(Red Teacher) She whispered head resting against the redheads shoulder. "There was a man. He was well known, and everyone knew what he liked, they ignored it though. He paid the girls well."

Natasha held her tight, rubbing circles on the girls back, glancing up and shaking her head at Doc Mac and Phil, who had gotten there as soon as Agent May had alerted them to a problem.

"They may as well stay Natka." Darcy looked at the pair, offering a hand. "Its got to come out anyway."

"Only between us." Doc Mac told her, moving to take a quiet seat on the catwalk. "Nice perch you found." She offered.

"Clint will be pleased." Phil returned.

Darcy shook her head "It was instinct. Down was bad, and I had enough to deal with. I just had to get away."

Natasha stroked her hair, offering soft encouragements in russian.

Darcy gave a watery smile. "So, I was ten when the red teacher gave me my first mission." Her face was blank as she looked up. "I was to bring the target in to the rendezvous point and keep him there using whatever methods possible." She offered an attempt of her usual smile, which looked brittle and fake right now. "It wasn't hard to keep him there. Krasnyy Uchitel was late. He had" her voice was tight "I wonder if she planned it like that." She considered, blankly before continuing. "She drugged him while he was busy and we took him to the room." 

"What happened in the room Darcy?" Mac asked, voice full of professionalism. 

Darcy looked at her blankly before answering flatly "She taught me how to interrogate." She looked at her hands "There was so much blood, all metallic smelling and tacky as it dried. It was too red, you know. Dark but bright and too red." 

Natasha shifted to stroke down her back, wanting to anchor her.

Darcy swallowed hard before commenting "It didn't feel like anything at first. I mean, you read anything and it tells you that blood is warm. They forget to say that you don't feel the warmth because by the time the blood hits you its already started to cool." Her words were quivery as she added, breathless. "You're going to hate me, don't hate me."

"Its okay Darcy. We won't hate you." Phil said softly, blue eyes kind.

"You should Uncle Phil." Darcy's voice cracked "I enjoyed it. I enjoyed hurting him because if I hurt him enough then Krasnyy Uchitel would tell me how good I was."

"Its not your fault Daria." Natasha's voice was firm as she tilted the younger womans face towards her. "It is classic red room conditioning. Praise is offered so rarely that you do anything for it. They create a monster through neglect and because we want to please and it is not your fault it is theirs." 

Darcy looked at her. "It doesn't make me any less a monster."

""Nyet" Natasha's head jerked sharply in the negative. "You were unable to disobey. Every training session you were drugged to be trained. That one was no different."

"How can you be sure?" Darcy's voice shook "How do you know that that puppet isn't the real me."

Phil sighed, rubbing his face. "Your mother left copious notes on what training she put you under." He explained. "Yes, she used you as bait, and let men take advantage- none of which are alive, by the way- and not all of them were killed by you. She drugged you not only with the psychotropic drugs but with others which- quite frankly- we don't know what they do. We can guess that she gave you the full Red Room drug regime- or close enough to it- by the way that your blood work mimics Natasha's."

Natasha stiffened, swearing rapidly in Russian. "Her reproductive system?" She asked, wrapping herself around her.

"Still viable." Phil reassured. "She didn't do the more physical procedures on her. I'm guessing because to sterilize her was either beyond her training or unable to be explained away."

Darcy swallowed hard, clinging to Natasha. "They did that to you?" Her voice was soft and Natasha gave a short little nod.

"I'd say I'm surprised but I'm uncertain that I wasn't half expecting it. After all, a weapon is no good if its unable to be used to its full potential." Darcy was analytical as she spoke. Her hand stayed clenched in Natasha's clothing even as she looked over at the doctor and at Phil.

"The kids alright?" She asked softly, relaxing only on getting an affirmative response. "Good. I didn't mean to fuck this up."

"You didn't kiddo." Uncle Phil offered, reaching his hand over to the par of cuddling women. Dangerous cuddling women. 

Darcy shifted from Natasha to him with a small sigh. "Can we go home Uncle Phil?" She asked, eyeing Doc Mac.

"I have no objections." Mac looked her over. "Will you sleep tonight?"

Darcy considered a moment before shrugging. "Dunno."

"If I give you something, will you take it?" Mac asked.

Darcy chewed her lip, looking to Nat before giving a slow nod. "I trust Natka and Clint and Uncle Phil to keep watch." She answered. "I don't want to dream tonight."

Mac reached into a pocket, holding out a bottle with a half dozen pills. "These will calm you down and let you sleep. Take only one." 

Darcy reached out, taking the pill bottle and tucking it away before she stood, climbing down off the catwalk. "Thanks Mac." She sounded absolutely exhausted, even as the others made their way down.

"Lets get home, beforeClint decides to try make something other then tinned soup and grilled cheese." Phil sounded serious as he referred to the archers char grilled attempts at cooking- the last had been a pasta casserole that never actually made it out of the dish.

"I still think R & D could have used that casserole." Natasha considered, holding onto Darcy's waist like she was hugging and not supporting the younger woman.

Darcy gave a soft snort of almost laughter. "Think we can get food on the way home? I don't care what. I just don't want to deal with thinking about food."

"How about I get Clint to pick up some thai hmm?" Phil asked "That way by the time we get in the food should be there."

Darcy gave a small nod at that, leaning against Natasha once more. "Got to say sorry to Agent May." She blinked, looking around. "And the other kids. They didn't need to see that."

"Its okay." The girl who seemed to appear from thin air was caramel skinned with dark wavy hair. "Zac and the kids- they won't hold it against you. I'm Max." She offered, eyes fierce. "We all have bad days- just- bring some twinkies for Xan. He's addicted to them." 

Darcy looked at her, worried "I didn't hurt him, did I?"

Max looked away "You hurt him less then he has been in the past." She admitted before sighing. "He's sedated right now. He picked up on the emotions and it." She exhaled. "He felt what you felt."

Darcy blinked back tears. "I'm so sorry."

Max shook her head firmly "Hell girl, it is not your fault. Xan wasn't even supposed to be in that room. We were warned you had some bad shit go on in your life- we knew that. Xan just got too damned curious and had to check you out without taking a dampener with him."

"Whats a dampener?" Darcy asked, swaying slightly.

"Its a kind of machine-thing. It blocks out the brain waves which he picks up on. Well, by block its more like using a towel to hide behind while someone turns the hose on- you will get wet through it but its not as quick or as bad as if its not there."

"Give him a hug for me, tell him I'm sorry?" Darcy asked, leaning back against Natasha.

"I will." Max gave a small smile. "And hey, maybe next time you can show me the move you used on Agent May. It was awesome- firm enough to get away but not actually damaging."

Darcy gave a nod. "I'll do that." She answered, even as she and Natasha started heading out.

Agent Coulson joined them, raising one eyebrow as they got to the exit.

"We're fine." Natasha offered with a smile.

"Did Clint take it okay?" Darcy asked him, even as they climbed into the car. 

"Yes he did kiddo." Uncle Phil tugged her against his chest. He stroked her hair gently before opening the door for her. "He said he's picking up some of that apple pie ice cream."

"Oh, awesome." Darcy curled up on the back seat, closing her eyes briefly. She felt wrung out and utterly wrecked, but no matter how exhausted she felt, her mind still kept pinging that she was in danger.

"Rest kotenok(kitten)" Natasha soothed, settling into the back seat with her and pulling the teen against her. 

With her sisters arms around her, Darcy let herself drift. She only partially woke enough to pick at food before she found herself curling up onto the queen sized bed in her room with both Clint and Natasha wrapped around her. It made her feel safe, and the bottle with the pills remained untouched.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A permanent solution to pesky words: The aftermath of Thor. And a sort of end (Part 2 is being written currently)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self harm in this chapter- it is a one off event.

Six months later saw Darcy away from the hub, away from the kids (who after a rocky start had become pseudo siblings to her) and off to New Mexico to intern for Jane Foster, astrophysicist.

Two months after that she met Thor, had a giant robot of doom try to make her extra crispy, oh and got to watch the epic cross the universe romance emergence of Jane and Thor.

She sat, curled up on the scaffolding of the temporary S.H.I.E.L.D. base and sighed. It was dark enough that she couldn't see the now barely there words on her wrist, but she still knew they were there. Thor had asked her what they were, and why they had faded. Explaining to the alien prince had been hard, and she brushed the pity she saw on his face off with forced humor.

Just another sip of really cheap and horrible tequila to make her feel better. Her head was swimming and she was possibly already on the way to being drunk. She just din't want to think about any of what bought her here.

She didn't want to think on how her mothers training may have actually saved her life. 

She didn't want to think on how happy Jane and Thor looked, with their soul words written on each others skin in colors that echoed the bifrost.

She really didn't want to think of the pity on the peoples faces when they saw the words, faded, on her wrist. It would have been better to have never had them, she thought, then to have the painful memory.

She should just get rid of them, cut them out. Not burning- the words would still show through, even distorted, they would still be there. She needed them gone.

She drank more, and perhaps if she weren't mostly drunk, she would never have pulled her knife out and tried to excise Vanko from her skin.

So many little cuts and scraping, pulling the words off. She stared when she was done, at the cuff of bloody flesh around her wrist, blood dripping from her fingers.

She gave a soft, laugh, just watching the blood, knife still gripped in her other hand.

"Darcy? Aww, Darce, no." Clint's words were soft, even as he moved across the catwalk on silent feet.

"I cut him off me brat (brother)" Darcy looked at him, and gave a bleary smile. "And I think I'm drunk." She offered, reaching to grab the half empty spirit bottle and only succeeding in knocking it off the catwalk.

"Darce, mind putting the knife down?" Clint asked her softly.

Darcy blinked at him before looking at the knife, suddenly sober. "I'm not suicidal. I don't want to die." She told him, blade falling onto the catwalk. "I fucked up big brother."

"Let me look at it kiddo." Clint crouched beside her, looking at her wrist before going to his cargo pants and pulling out an field dressing. "I'm going to put this on your wrist to try and stop the bleeding."

"Don't tell Uncle Phil." Darcy leaned against the metal of the walk and offered him her arm. 

"I can't not, kitten." Clint wrapped her wrist and tugged her to her feet. "He's my CO, and he needs to know."

Darcy swayed, clinging to the archer. She gave a low, broken laugh. "Fuck." 

Clint sighed, clipping the rope he left up on his nest in, before tapping his com. "I've got her Coulson. Meet you in the infirmary."

Darcy let him maneuver her into a sling to be clipped to him before he took her down. As they hit the ground, her knees buckled, only the sling keeping her upright. 

"I've got you Darce." Clint swung her up into his arms, tension dancing across his body before he bolted with her to the infirmary.

Phil's heart just about stopped when he saw the blood stained bandage on the limp figure. His face flickered through a multitude of micro expressions before he sifted, letting Clint lay the youngest of his 'kids down.

"What happened Barton?"

Clint looked at him, face set. "She maintains she isn't suicidal." His voice was flat. "She tried to cut his words off of her skin." He added, moving so the doctor could work. He swallowed hard on seeing the mess she made of her wrist.

"Looks like it worked." Phil's voice was dry, and it was only the slight tightening of his lips that said that he wasn't finding an up side to this.

"She drank possibly close to half a bottle of really bad tequila." Clint told him, raising his voice so that the doctor could hear.

"At least?" The doctor asked, even as he trimmed the edges of the wound to roughly sew it. It was not going to be the neatest of clean up jobs- the stitching was more to encourage the edges together rather then seal the wound- she had taken too much when she had cut.

"I don't know if she drank before she took to the catwalk." Clint answered, hands twitching, either looking for a bow, or wanting to drag the still form against himself.

"Hmm." The doctor fiddled with a drip, sliding a cannula into Darcy's good arm and letting the fluids drip in. "Just a banana bag. Should help with any alcohol poisoning as well as building up fluids for the blood loss."

Phil exhaled, leaning against the wall slightly. "Good." He murmured, wishing he could do more. He looked at the doctor, advising "Don't drug her. She doesn't cope well with it."

"Usually in unsuccessful attempts like this we sedate until they can get off the field." The doctor answered.

"She isn't fucking suicidal." Clint snarled at the man. "Sure she's got issues, but fuck. She cut his words off her skin." The archer paced angrily "If she had have told me she was thinkng of it I would've done it for her."

"Barton, enough." Phil's firm words stilled the angry archer, and he moved roughly past the older man, jumping up to sit on the filing cabinet. 

"I'm staying with her." 

Phil gave a half twitch of his lips. "I was going to ask you to." He admitted. "No drugs." He told the doctor again before looking at his archer "Get her prepped once she wakes up. She's headed to the academy."

"Yes sir." Barton replied, staying on his seat on the filing cabinet, staring balefully at the doctor until he left. Once he did leave however, he slid down, shifting his little sister around until he could tuck himself around her, still armed. At least this way the likelihood of her waking up from a nightmare was lessened.

_______

Darcy woke up, wrist throbbing painfully and head feeling just as bad. She made a face at the rough chuckle.

"Just imaging how bad the hangover would have been without the bag." Clint informed her.

Darcy gave another low groan. "What's going on?"

Clint sighed, offering her some painkillers and a bottle of water. "Well, since you have gotten those last science credits, you are off to the science academy today."

Darcy took the pills, sipping at the water. "I " she exhaled harshly. "I didn't want to kill myself." 

"You said that last night." Clint's voice was soft. "And I get that, I really, really do." His jaw was tight. "It was just so damned stupid Darce. You could have died. We could have lost you and that fucking hurts."

Darcy's lip trembled. "I didn't think ok? Just- seeing how much Jane and Thor- it hurt ok? And I had his words on me, white and clearly screaming to the world that I was always going to be alone because no matter how bad he was- how evil and wrong he was still my soulmate and all I see when people notice is pity."

"Aww Darce." Clint wrapped himself around her, careful of her arm. "If you had have told me I would have helped you cut his words from you." 

Darcy looked at him, surprised. "You- why?"

Clint brushed his lips against the side of her face. "Because sometimes the words hurt." He admitted "And you are right, having someones words, even faded, means that people automatically call you a widow and just don't see you."

Darcy frowned at him before nodding. "So next time I get the urge to cut into myself I should call you?"

"And the next time you decide to drink most of a bottle of tequila." Clint replied "and depending on the mood I will either bring you ice cream or lime."

Darcy gave a small sigh. "Fine." She grimaced, before adding "I don't think I like tequila." 

Clint gave a snort of laughter. "Yeah kid, that was my thoughts on my first hangover." He sobered up "How are you feeling about the whole off to the Academy thing?"

"I don't know." Darcy offered him. "I liked being out here but- I wasn't being me. Hell, Jane doesn't even know what I've studied other then the poli sci." She exhaled "I have to actually figure out who I am." 

"Hey- there's nothing wrong with that." Clint offered, before half frowning "Of course, I kind of ran away to the circus and then became a teenaged sniper before getting picked up by Uncle Phil before finding myself...."

Darcy gave a huff. "What's it like at the Academy?"

Clint made a face "I don't actually know. Uncle Phil liked it." He admitted.

"I guess you didn't actually go in between the whole circus and recruited thing." Darcy stated.

"Nah." Clint offered her. "Uncle Phil got me up to speed away from the Academy. I wasn't a good candidate to go through- I think the official line was I was volatile and too good an asset to not use."

Darcy gave a small giggle before sobering as the rather loud sounds of an irate physicist hit her ears. "Ooooh boy."

"Now where the hell is---Darcy?" Jane's voice kind of went from banshee to worried friend and Darcy gave a wry smile.

"Hey Janey."

"Darcy-they- they took your stuff, said you had an assignment. I didn't even know you worked for them." Jane's voice was accusing and Darcy fidgeted in her seat.

"I couldn't tell." Darcy told her firmly, even as she pulled at the bandage on her wrist. "Shit happened Jane, crap that threw me face first into the hands of someone on S.H.I.E.L.D's watch list." Her eyes were fierce "I mean hell- all I wanted was my degree and I was happy, then my parents were dead and he had me and he thought he was entitled to do whatever."

"Darcy-was he- he- that's whose words you had." Jane's voice was fragile, like a child who had just learned that the tooth fairy wasn't real.

"Yeah, well. I don't get a happy ending." Darcy refused to look at her, instead leaning against Clint, who had been observing for now.

"Why them though, its not like- well, you aren't stupid. There are plenty of safe places you could work. You don't look like, I mean, you look like nothing happened." Jane blurted out.

"I spent a lot of time around Darce when she was recovering." Clint's voice was soft and fierce. "I know exactly what she went through and let me tell you this one time only Doctor Foster- Darcy is stronger then anyone I know. "

"Why do you think I never wear tops that show my shoulders?" Darcy cut in, looking at the unflattering hospital gown. "I don't want to fight Janey" she added, softer.

"I just don't want you to go." Jane's face was teary. "Who will make sure I eat, and sleep, and do more then science?"

"Hey-I'll call." Darcy offered. "And pick on your new interns."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will make sure you have a caretaker Doc." Clint couldn't help but hide his grin. "They won't be as awesome as Darcy but they will help you get through till we can get her trained up on procedure."

Darcy scowled "Right, this suddenly doesn't sound so fun."

Jane couldn't help but start to giggle at the sight of Darcy's pout. Hummingbird quick she darted in and wrapped her friend in a hug. "Everythings changing Darcy."

"Aww Jane, change makes everything fun."

"......Darcy, you and I really need to talk about what constitutes fun." Clint commented, Coulson dry, before settling in to watch his little sister say her goodbyes.


End file.
